#its just always the same tre d | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acommonloon · 3 years ago

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TL;DR

about last night's mperfect ending. After stops at three Louisville venues, each more fun than the last, we decided to get a nightcap in New Albany. We didn't manage to get a drink at any of four stops in that sleepy town but we did witness a police officer chasing a black man down the side of State Street. Still watching for a news report.

Alternately a night for Morgans

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D's niece's husband, J, is a sweet guy. He has almost no family of his own living in the area and his own family unit consists of an unruly teen (not his) a precocious 6 year old and 3 year old twins. It's a lot.

With that in mind, I always wait for him to contact me and he always earns his kitchen passes so when he texted me he had a free night out I was glad to hang with him. I only asked if he had a curfew. No sir. He's nearing 40 and regularly admits he wishes he could more often frequent the places D and I do, meaning bars and restaurants. I remember those days when self came last.

Our 1st stop was World of Beer. With 50+ taps and hundreds of bottles and cans sitting in glass front coolers directly across from the bar, it's one of my go to spots. J immediately set about building a flight of five small pours while I took my time picking one or two low gravity beers to sip since I was driving. They had two bartenders on this Wednesday night, Morgan was ours and our service was prompt and friendly. By the time we finished a plate of tots, loaded with melted cheese and fresh jalapeno slices I had our plan.

I hadn't been to Commonwealth Tap since before 2020. This small wine bar is in a movie set sort of town called Norton Commons. Think "The Truman Show." The houses were all built over a small number of years and though they are comprised of many different styles, with no two near each other being the same, they are on the same size lots and there is no variety in terms of weathering or decoration. Everything to plan. Unreal. Creepy.

I glanced at the wine list on a chalkboard noticing a Turley Zin at $18 and a Cotes de Rhone at $8. When the bartender asked what I wanted, I said, "Talk me out of the Turley and into the Cotes. He hesitated for a second and I said, "I want something minerally, earthy, not fruity." Like a Beaujolais Morgon or an Italian grown on the side of a volcano. Before he could reply, a guy sitting at the bar said we don't have that on tap. The Cotes is your best option and the bartender handed me a generous taste saying, try that.

I took the glass all the while evaluating the man who'd spoken up. He'd said "we" don't have that. He was alone at the bar except for us. I doubted he was just a bold regular, maybe drunk, who felt everyone benefited from his opinion, he wasn't drunk. Then he stood up and walked over the the wine racks. His search was one of familiarity and he pulled a bottle and sat it down on the bar next to me. Was he an employee or maybe a distributor on good terms with the staff? Then he began talking about the wine, about his many trips to France, and I suddenly I knew. "You're an owner here aren't you?"

He laughed and admitted he was. He introduced himself, Neal Morgan and for the next 40 mins or so he told us about himself and the bar. He told us about his wife, a pediatrician who worked for 20 years in Indiana and he went so far as to describe his Scottish heritage along with his general thinking about wines. When he said he was going a friend's house for a pizza party, I thought he was about to leave. Then he said he was going to take a kick ass wine but first he wanted me to taste it. It was a California pinot noir priced at $30 more than the first bottle he'd put down on the bar. It was fantastic! He gave us tasting notes and I admitted I couldn't perceive half of what he reeled off. I said he spoke like a sommelier and he laughed again and said he claimed he had a better palate than Kenny, the sommelier who worked for him. He thanked us for coming in and seemed sincere. When he left, J looked at me and said, "That was amazing." I laughed and said it was a Wednesday at a bar.

Before we left, I asked Rainha to make me a Penicillin and we talked about Scotch. She related how she introduced her brother to Scotch and now that's all he drank. We talked about how things were during the shutdown and I told her about a new place I'd been the previous Saturday. Outside, J exclaimed this was just the best time! He said he'd never be able to talk staff like that, let alone the owner. I said talking to industry people was one of my favorite things. They are so interesting and I think they find it refreshing when someone at the bar wants to hear about them instead of wanting to talk about themselves. Then I said, I know where we'll go next. Maybe Stephen is working.

Our next stop was at Cuvee Wine Table and Stephen greeted me at the door with a huge "Shane!" and a hug. If J was impressed with Commonwealth, I thought he should fasten his seatbelt. Stephen is a trip. Except, Stephen exclaimed I'm on this side of the bar now! To my quizzical look, he said he was the manager now. Amidst introductions, our bartender, Andie came over and introduced herself. She was tall, regally thin, and wore a colorful scarf on her head. She offered an engaging personality I perceived as professional banter but sensed alos she seemed to enjoy her job.

When I described what kind of wine I preferred, she said, "OOh how about a white?" Ooookay??? I thought to myself, this is going to be fun. Stephen came back as Andy set my glass down in front of me and asked, "What are we having?" Andie said, it's the Santorini. Stephen, a newly minted sommelier, immediately launched into an enthusiastic description about this remarkable wine from a Greek Island. He said it was so constantly windy, they braided the vine boughs into bowls to protect the fruit on the inside. I smelled it and it reminded me of a Sav Blanc but when I tasted it, I knew I'd found a new favorite. It had a salty savory aspect with more minerality than any white I'd had previously.

Andie was from Lexington and our other bartender, Heather, was newly arrived from the Nashville area. Heather was training behind the bar but seemed tres calm. At one point she asked us to wish her luck and I realized she was going to take an order. When she came back, I was a little surprised but delighted when J asked her where she was from specifically. It turned out they were from the same area and knew the same high schools and such. Great fun. When Stephen came and asked if we were eating, I said, "What am I having?" The cassoulet he responded immediately and then he tried to add in sweet breads but I insisted I was out on that. J selected a flatbread and when my giant bowl of white beans with pork and a small chicken leg came, I felt I'd got the better order. He admitted sheepishly he just didn't like beans and that was that.

I suggested we finish with a French brandy served in proper snifters and asked for a bottle of the Santorini to go home. It was full dark but comfortably warm walking to the car and J asked if I were up for one more on him. I suggested we go see Emily at Brooklyn and the Butcher. She made me a perfect drink in January and I'd been craving another ever since.

All the way to New Albany, J kept bringing up how much he enjoyed the two wine bars and how he hoped he and his wife could indulge in similar experiences when their children were older. He worried his wife didn't really like anything but sweet wine and was picky about that. I laughed and said D was exactly the same but she was game to hang out and recently started to appreciate ciders and frutied beers, and even some semi-sweet wines.

There were still plenty of cars parked on the street when we arrived at Brooklyn and the Butcher. I noticed there was no one at the hostess stand when we walked in but I breezed past into the bar. There were two women sitting at the bar and I was a bit disappointed when I realized the bartender wasn't Emily. I was even more so when she came over and apologized but said they'd closed already. I laughed and made a joke about the owner being an old man for closing so early then I realized who it was sitting at the bar. I asked, "Is that Emily sitting at the bar?" she said it was and I got up and walked over. We talked for ten minutes about my last visit and I asked her about her trip to Savannah. She kept apologizing for the bar being closed but I assured her I would be back. It was fine, we'd walk down to The Earl.

I got a bad vibe the minute we walked in. The bar was mostly full and there was only one bartender. He was wearing short shorts and took forever to get us a drink menu then never looked our way for the next five minutes. I suggested we go to Recbar nearby. There it was the same. The lone bartender, woman this time, was overwhelmed and though the bar was half empty she never looked our way before I lost patience.

Okay then. We were driving to my final option (so I thought) when I stopped at a light. J said, "Look at that! A cop is chasing that guy!" Sure enough through the sparse traffic I could see a black guy sprinting along the side of the normally busy road. His arms were pistoning up and down, his hands flattened into chopping motions like a track sprinter. Coming behind but steadily losing ground was a hefty police officer. He looked ridiculous and I can only imagine he might be thinking everyone watching thought he looked ridiculous. I wondered if he might pull his gun.

The light turned green then and I moved forward. That's when we spotted a car with the front passenger side crushed in where it had impacted the guardrail, on the opposite side of the road. There was a cop car with its lights flashing parked behind it. I couldn't see any activity around the cars as we drove past. About a half mile up the road we pulled into the parking lot of our 4th attempt to get a last drink. It was closed.

We laughed and decided we'd had enough fun. As we headed back towards the scene of the incident, sirens and flashing lights were suddenly all around us. I guess there was a manhunt. I weaved through parked cruisers while J counted eight more with lights flashing on side streets . Fifteen minutes later I dropped him off. He thanked me profusely but it nothing but what I like to do anyway.

20 mins later I pulled into the garage and for a second my heart did the little flutter it always does when I see D's car parked in its spot. Then I sighed remembering she wasn't home and wouldn't be for another week.

Just a Wednesday.

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everarddelanden · 4 years ago

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FIVE HEADCANONS ABOUT YOUR MUSE

REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG.

tagged by: @sacredvein

tagging: @rhoshamandes, @dark-eyed-elegance, @immortalboywonder, @of-ivory-and-gold

1. Everard, whenever he is deeply hurt, either through loss, betrayal or disillusionment, retreats to places that are familiar and where expectations are zero. Back in the day, he would turn to the friends that had helped him resettle in the world after leaving the Children of Darkness. Because of this, he trusted the coven fully and any old or new member that was welcomed by them. It was a place where he could be himself and they knew how to behave around him in those times. It was anonymous, it was safe and it was familiar. But they were destroyed by Akasha. Despite his bad relationship with them and it on the surface seeming to be illogical, he now ventures out to go to Rhoshamandes and Benedict. Though not understanding him, they know him fully. It's just as anonymous, because they are such recluses. In a way, it is a safe place from outer threats in a moment of weakness and despite walking on eggshells, it's familiar. It is, in fact, the only place he can go.

The following insight was provided by @helloitsfeffsagain: Being so attached to people who used to spend so much time in the same place and to the castle (that has in itself the concept of the hermit), is very comforting for someone like Everard who loves repetitive actions to rock himself like a nervous child. He loves new people obviously, but he needs to surround himself by himself, so of course he seeks the place where there is the core of his essence, so where he was born again, to enter physically in his mental nest.

2. Everard experiences emotions purely as feelings and will act on them in the moment. He rarely expresses or puts them down in words. He feels strongly and deeply, but never lingers on their possible origin. At least not further than its initial instigation. So if anyone actually asks him about the reasoning behind (perhaps in their eyes) odd behaviour or extreme coping mechanisms, he kind of short-circuits and will find it extremely hard to explain it to them. His response to his emotions are almost instinctive and he does not question them, because they got him this far. This is mainly the reason he ‘bounces back’ quickly after certain trauma, because he does not dig as deep as calling things a trauma, but merely an inconvenience thrown his way to overcome. This can to others come off as indifference towards certain situations or it can later catch up with him because he’s not fully recovered from it. Imagine him then as the Shocked Pikachu meme.

3. Point two is also the reason why he has no idea, that his preference in lovers, who are often handsome, strong and confident, but also caring, gentle and kind, are a direct reflection of what he found in Rhoshamandes and Benedict. But then the best parts of them combined. His turning was chaotic and unwanted and the only thing he had as point of reference, was them. It is often said your current emotional state is hardwired tenfold in you, once you’re turned, which makes a lot of sense. Again, my darling @helloitsfeffsagain added the importance of his homosexual awakening through it all. Back in 13th century France, loving another man was forbidden. So even if he had these feelings all along, he did not foresee a future where this was a part of his life. being taken by Rhoshamandes, whom of course was undeniably and inescapably triggering these preferences in Everard, to go from living in a world where such a thing is forbidden, to then live it constantly and without limit, must have been earth shattering for his conscience. He has no idea how all of this left a huge imprint on his existence, influencing a lot of his choices. It also propelled him in an eternal conflict how to feel about Rhoshamandes and Benedict.

4. On a more positive vibe, Everard is quite the idealist! He believes people are good by nature and can always strive to become better. This is what makes it so hard for him to understand people can act purely evil acts. It often makes him unable to forgive repetitive acts of injustice. The ‘punching down’ principle kind of applies here.

Being an idealist can come off to others as naive and makes him vulnerable to manipulation. But, this also means he will never just dismiss someone for trivial reasons, because there is potential in everyone. He for example allows anyone in his territory, because he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. It makes him gravitate towards younger vampires, because they don’t have the arrogant and pre-set attitudes many of the elders have. Spending time among mortals and young vampires helps him stay grounded, connected to current times and keeps him humble. The stance towards elders having attitudes, of course, is a prejudice in its own. He is aware of this, so also for those older than him, he offers the benefit of the doubt and is not at all too stubborn to change any preset opinions. He also does not approve of forming opinions about people by association or over what they might have done to others. It’s why he has no issues getting friendly with Daniel or Benji. They are not their Makers. As he would not want to be judged by his association with Rhoshamandes either.

Trivia 1: This doesn’t stop Everard mentioning Rhoshamandes’ name to stranger’s threats to save his own neck, though... :'D. We can also add Opportunist to the list of default characteristics I think, haha!)

5. In opposition to the college AU, Everard’s pretty invested in the mechanics of running a business. He owns a few auction houses in the province of Siena and goes there quite frequently to stay in contact with his employees. His whole house is decorated with antiques he gets to pick out before they go off to be auctioned. When he runs into a prettier piece, he will quite easily distance himself from the old one and have it auctioned off instead. His Siena home interiour therefor rotates quite often. He likes it like that. It’s like breaking routine, without upsetting the routines that really matter to him.

Trivia 2: What no one really knows (except perhaps David at this point) is that, despite being quite conservative and holding rather old world views himself, he actually owns a stand-up, drag, cabaret and burlesque bar called ‘Tre Fenicotteri Blu’. He quite enjoys being among the eccentric, creative people of this age, which tickled him since the 1980′s. He does however not visit there often enough, because the enthusiastic hosts always put the lime-light on him and believe it or not, he doesn’t like this. He would much rather just slip in, enjoy his night just watching everyone have a good time and slip back out at his own convenience.

#FINALLY FINISHED IT HAHA #Everard de Landen #HC #sacredvein #rhoshamandes #agnusdeisanctus #immortalboywonder #of-ivory-and-gold

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opalai-pixel-witch · 4 years ago

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“Thank you!! I’m happy to hear you liked that one ^__^ Kittens seem to make everything cuter…even if I’m not so good at drawing them ;;=o=;;”

–The kittens you drew are cute :3

“Yeah, I remember the first time I finished the main story and I was super excited to see that there was more I could do after the credits! I was surprised to see Death in Bjørn’s house and watching him and Pesto interact was a lot of fun ^o^ PP’s games are full of surprises it would seem, you have no idea how excited I got when I heard my son’s singing voice ;u;”

–You mean the scene where he sings to a scared viking friend?

I like that scena too, I even started to sing cuz I alredy knew the lyrics ;) I like see Pesto play the bass :D

“Oooh, do you think that Red-Eye is one of those two dead guys in the background of War’s introduction? :o Makes me wonder just how far back the creators have been planning…and that’s a really interesting take on what they could be doing! When I think about Milky and his team I think about the show Truth Seekers—I dunno if you’ve seen or heard of that, but basically there’s a guy who investigates the paranormal in his spare time and he’s somehow recruited a few people into his investigations, and eventually they uncover a cult putting some shady nanotech in peoples’ brains. It’s really good in my opinion, but anyhow I like looking at that kind of thing and Milky makes me think of that o.o”

–“Truth Seekers”, it´s the first time I… read(? XD )that name ^^;

Red eye thing in the background was said by one of the developers, search “Manual Samuel week” on Youtube and you will find Ozan’s videos, he talks a bit about how MS and HH are connected ;) 👍

“Well in that case, I’m glad that I could pique your interest! >u> I admittedly have trouble with feeling like I “belawng” anywhere and keep getting paranoid that I’m just intruding in whatever fandom I join, which makes my hesitation towards making new stuff and trying new things even more of a pain =A=”

–Feel I’m just intruding in whatever fandom I join also happens to me :,v

There is a web serie called “Tres Acordes” and I liked it a lots; one week and I started to draw it and I feel bad because didn´t one month from I started to see the serie, I fel I musted wait more, but I didn´t share them cuz ; when one month and the serie liked, I that feeling and started to post my drawings

Currently I follow the serie, I don´t know if the fans or the creator like my drawings, but I have fun, at least I know I don´t uncomfortable them, I draw the characters representing some episode or some trait of their personality ^^

“Honestly I tend to have more fun participating in smaller fandoms because it feels like…there’s more heart put into them, if that makes any sense??? I’m not entirely sure how to word it :P I have yet to run into any crazy fandom discourse so far (knock on wood), but I understand that that’s also a danger when it comes to bigger fandoms ;;o_o;; Regardless, however, I love the PP fandom and I’m really happy to have found a friend to talk to about it!!”

–Yes, that´s true, in small fandoms there´s more heart, cuz it´s about supporting the original work and its creators, I also prefer small fandoms, in the Tres Acordes there are few that are dedicated to create something for the serie, that´s great, I feel more free to create and it hasn´t become toxic; there is a small fandom that I like to create content for, but there´s a group of fugoshis who make it toxic, they only post NSFW work and only support that content, which makes you don´t want to be in the fandom (I left it for a while thanks to they), in my case, I try to support all decent works to motivate people, and thanks to that I met a group of people who have healthy fun in that little fandom and we support each other ^^

…

(New drawings) ;v :

https://sta.sh/22aj2xyaqwj3?edit=1

…

“I watched a review of Helheim Hassle in which some guy was calling Bjørn a complete loser and now I am enraged”

–That´s it! I´m killing this guy! I don´t care if it´s written or not! Throw me in Human Jail! I don´t CARE! >:v

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Aw thanks!! I’m glad you think so ;u;

Yeah, when I got to that scene and Pesto said “you start singing, Bjoharn” I paused the game and freaked out for a moment, all “AGDHFMXKDISKSB I GET TO HEAR MY SON SING?????” I love that scene sooooo much ;;o;;

ALSO Pesto just has the most amazing bass skills...like she learns everything by ear and has a great memory for how it goes and seems to know exactly where to put her fingers, and all she needs to be able to do that is to listen to the actual song once and then just a brief recap of it??? Pesto’s bass-playing just kicks a whole lot of ass >o>

It’s a great show in my opinion, it’s very interesting! I think it’s by the same people behind the Cornetto trilogy, if you’ve heard of that :o I’d recommend it to anyone who’s interested in that sorta premise ^_^ (...unless they happen to be sensitive to the “eye scream” trope)

I watched that entire series before writing this reply, it was a lot of fun to watch! I think I missed any mention he might’ve made about Red Eye, but it’s pretty cool to know that those three guys in the background are creator cameos o:

Fandoms are a tricky thing indeed...it feels like NSFW artwork is kinda unavoidable no matter what fandom you’re in, and while I don’t make NSFW stuff myself I know that people are gonna draw what they’re gonna draw, and as long as it isn’t hurting anybody or portraying anything unethical it’s not really my business to call them out on it. However if people are gonna post stuff like that, they should be very responsible about making sure the wrong demographic doesn’t see it, giving plenty of warnings and tagging stuff appropriately, all that stuff. I don’t know what protocol there usually is for that sorta thing, but everyone should make sure that nobody gets scarred for life by anything and that everybody gets along and doesn’t make anybody else feel unsafe!

You shouldn’t have to feel like you’re intruding in fandoms! If your contributions to the PP community are any indication, you probably bring a lot of cool stuff to any fandom you join! Personally I look forward to you submitting things here and I always love seeing your new drawings ^__^ It’s always fun to be able to talk to you about what we both love in the PP verse and swap headcannons and stuff!

Your new drawings are, as always, absolutely brilliant!! I love the reverse AU one (Skeleton Bjørn = very yes) and also the one with you (if that person is you?) hugging Death |D His expression is great, all “yep, this is my life now”

...I see you brought Pesto with you...might I join you on your quest? I must avenge my viking son >_>

#submission #dani

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artsninspo · 5 years ago

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PULSE - PART XIII: VULNERABLE

MASTERLIST

The sexual attraction between Elle and Tre had bled out. There was so much of nothing between them that Liz was actually being nice to him. No one wants a broken women. Right now Elle was a thousand piece puzzle scattered on a table. Nobody had time for that. Nobody accept for Jesse.

There’d always been sparks between Elle and Tre. Now Elle found it impossible to read anything but concern in his eyes. No attraction, frustration, nothing. He made no effort to touch her or leave lingering looks and they didn’t even get caught up in flirty bickering. Their relationship was changing.

Elle could tell by her fathers sentiment that things were looking up and they were closing in on Rinna. Morale was up between all three of them and Rico even agreed to take Liz to the mall to get some things.

As much as Elle wanted a change of scenery she could appreciate the peace of an empty house. She runs herself a bath lighting a candle for Jesse. Strange as seems, it was one of their rituals. Before a big night at the club. Elle would soak in a bath of Jesses special youth serum while he smoked herbal cigarettes and painted her nails whatever colour for her costume for the night. They’d blast music and he’d spend time doing his hair however his heart desired. Once her polish was dry she’d shower off the soap from the bath and sit at the vanity crafting her hairstyles to match the pageantry.

The memories always made her happy. Jesse always made her feel strong. They laughed and played and appreciated the life they’d built together.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Yes?” She responds out of her reverie.

“I’m back” Tre checks in.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a bit” she responds letting the water drain. Apologies were in order. She’d been nasty and cold to Tre when all he wanted to do was help her. So what if he didn’t feel the same anymore? Jesse would turn in his grave if she ever turned into a bitter bitch. Punishing him for not wanting her anymore wasn’t right. He didn’t deserve that. Stepping into the shower she runs through the right words in her head.

I’m sorry for being a jerk. I should have handled things better?

I was upset at things changing between us? No too sappy.

Sighing Elle holds her head back letting the water run down her hair until a draft hits making her open her eyes.

“For fuck sake!” She gasps hand on heart seeing Tre.

“Just checking on you” he reasons.

“Okay” she laughs looking at him. “Now, fuck off” Elle laughs recovering from her fright. His eyes brighten at her spirits as she finger detangles her hair looking at him. “Bye Tre” she turns getting the shampoo and feeling her hair revert to its kinks until she hears the shower door open. Another draft hits before it closes. Her temperature rises.

“You done being bitchy?” He asks as his finger leaves a train of goosebumps down her spine that stop at her tailbone.

“Bitchy, no. Mean, yes.” She reasons continuing to rinse her hair unassumingly.

“Is that a sorry?” He asks stepping under the water stream too.

“Only for being mean, nothing else” Elle specifies as he peaks her senses - standing behind her with all the hardware to relieve her nerves.

“I don’t care about apologies Elle. As long as you’re okay” he comments with a hand on her hip. His eyes roam her body. It was perfect to him. The way the water ran down her glistening full figure, the steam and the familiar feeling of how she made him feel makes his dick stand at attention. Miscommunication, fizzling chemistry.

“I’m okay, I don’t need you to watch me shower Tre” she plays coy looking over her shoulder at him. He has the power the moment she gets a look at his glistening figure and lustful eyes. Her nipples harden from her arousal leaving her centre throbbing in anticipation. Reaching over her Tre grabs the body wash, he squeezes a glob into his palm before putting the slippery substance on Elles back and massaging it around as the water washes it away. The gesture is foreplay as he reacquaints himself with her body. He takes his time moving to her neck, bringing her back onto his muscular chest allowing her to feel his want pressing against lower back.

He’s ready. The bathroom setting their aphrodisiac. Her body ignites under his touch as his hands cup her breasts pinching her nipples softly, while kissing her neck.

“Mmm” Elle moans taking a breath.

It’s music to his ears as he feels her body relax under his touch. He kisses her neck lovingly as his hands grip her hips, then thighs.

“Mhmmm”

The suspense is so much her eyes close while the man behind her takes his time deciding on a course of action.

“What are my rules?” Elle asks wanting to relieve the pressure between her legs desperately.

“No rules this time” he kisses her temple. “Whatever you want” he adds shutting the water off. His eyes are loving as Elle turns to admire her knight. Perfect brown skin, broad shoulders, chiseled torso and strong arms. Her smile is appreciative as she tip toes to kiss him.

Deepening the kiss his hands cup her jaw gently. She could feel her self falling for him, needing to be closer when there was no more space between their bodies. Out of breath they break apart to breathe.

“Come on” he rasps all libido getting her towel and leading the way to the bedroom drying himself off hastily. Locking the door with disregard for the setting his mind is taking care of his lady.

“I missed you” Elle admits feeling self conscious the second the words leave her lips. She bites them nervously until he smiles understanding perfectly.

“I love you Elle” he takes the air out of her lungs laying her down. “Nothing about you being in danger or stressed gets me off” his explanation means everything to her. His lips find hers again as he slides into her slowly. Adjusting to his size takes some time.

“Baby” Elle breathes grabbing a handful of her wet coils as he finds his rhythm. Their fingers interlock as he adjusts his position for better access. Her breathing is staggered as her eyes open to his looking into hers. Loving and relentless. He reads her mind pecking her lips as her back arches again enjoying the stimulation.

“Shit” he groans feeling her contract on his manhood making him pulse. “Stop That” he warns trying to avoid the climax.

“Don’t stop” she begs taking up the Mantle and grinding into him hungrily. It’s been too long. Her body wants all of him. His kisses are never ending to quell her moaning as he thrusts harder and faster. The head rush and onset of a orgasm makes him pull out.

“Let me taste my pretty pussy”

“Fuck me” Elle drawls undone by his expression knowing she doesn’t have a chance.

“Is she mine?”

Elle feels him blowing on her folds teasingly.

“Yes”

It gets her his lips.

“All mine?” He asks

“Yes”

He sucks, Elle gasps as he adds a finger. There’s no escaping the rush of pleasure as he enjoys making her whimper and moan for more. His eyes are dark and her body reaction to him flips a switch. She peaks, hart and heavy. Breathy moans, sloppy kisses and more want. He could fuck her all day.

He smiles in admiration or her suggestive expression. It tells him she wants more.

“It’s my turn” her voice is soft and playful.

“To do what?” The tension between them steamy. Anticipation builds as she smiles

“Take care of you”. The hairs on his neck stand up as she whispers biting his ear playfully. Her movement seductive and almost feline. “Tell me what you want daddy?” Her big brown eyes peer into his with innocence.

“Whatever I want?”

“Everything you want” She specifies hands behind her back allowing him to admire her full breasts. He never let women fuck him. He never fucked women for their pleasure always prioritizing his.

“Daddy” he corrects eyes darkening.

“Everything you want, Daddy”

“Good girl” he lays back allowing her access to his manhood. Looking at him lustfully she kisses the tip stroking the shaft and enjoying his length and girth. A challenge she enjoyed. Taking as much of him into her mouth as she can paying extra attention to the mushroom dome. Her grip tightens making his eyes close precum leaking and improving the slip. His groans and sighs increase her arousal. Elle gags trying to take all of him.

“Fuck” he groans deliriously as her grip tightens a touch more stroking with the right amount of pressure and mouth.

His hips buck finding a rhythm and fucking her face until she cups his balls a power play.

“You’re done fucking other women” she says sweetly waiting for his response. A statement and a question. “Be honest?” She smiles massaging them. His eyes watch her sly smile closely as she waits giving his boys some love.

“I’m done fucking other women” he concedes.

“I’m all yours” his eyes close and his breath is catches as he loses his composure at how she makes him feel. There’s no time to catch his breath when she returns to the tip swallowing every last drop. Winking with a confident grin making him nod.

“Now you’re going to have to come up with a good excuse as to why you can’t walk kitten” he smiles getting between her legs and enjoying every inch of what’s his.

Watching her submit to him completely only makes him want her more and in every way. She was solid, smart, sexy he could read her like a book.

“Baby” she gasps head on the cold pillow. A sharp sting pings the flesh of her butt. “Babe!” She quips frowning.

“D-“

“Daddy” she corrects. “I -“ her words are silenced by more moans as he claims he’d from behind with an expertise in making her come.

They come together collapsing onto the bed.

He smiles pulling her close to look at her.

“That was amazing Elle” he hadn’t fucked anyone without a condom in as long as he’d been having sex. The last thing he ever wanted was a baby mama and a child in his life. He’d do fine without the drama.

“I love you too” she smiles snuggling into his chest as his arms wrap around her. “I need you to get me plan b” her words make him chuckle.

“You’re not on birth control?”

“I am but I’m not ready to be a mom yet.”

“I got you” he whispers shutting his eyes finally comfortable with Elle in his arms. “Always” he adds falling asleep.

Authors Note:

Just a little de-stressing before things wrap up! How do we feel whats been up with these two and how are the boys gonna deal with Mrs. Rinna?

TAGS:

@bugngiz @lifelover4u @l-auteuse @notsomellowmushroom @princessasaani @heavensangelxo @bakarilennox @tastingmellow @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @jad3djay @thickemadame @doublesidedscoobysnacks @aanairb @hooliemooliedonutshawp @quietstorm-73 @thememoireeofme @tip222u @amelatonin @cherrystainedlipsbaby @keiva1000 @highlifeflylife @twistedcharismaaa

#Trevante Rhodes #pulsefc #pulseseries #masterlist #trevante rhodes x reader #trevante x black reader #trevanterhodesimagine

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coleleo · 5 years ago

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new decade, new me

was perusing through my old blog. i took this survey when i was a wee lass. thought it’d be fun to repost/retake it, to see how much things have changed.. if at all. new answers in bold, the unchanged is.. unchanged.

The Letter A Are you available?: not to the public i’m unattached as hell. What is your age?: 20 1/2 31 What annoys you?: stupid shit The Letter B Do you live in a big house?: i live in a big apartment When is your birthday?: 822 Who is your best friend?: chomps heather The Letter C What's your favorite candy?: swedish fish Who's your crush?: geigh i hate that i have an answer to this When was the last time you cried?: like yesterday it’s been months The Letter D Do you daydream?: often What's your favorite kind of dog?: beagles pitbulls What day of the week is it?: monday tuesday The Letter E How do you like your eggs?: i hate eggs Have you ever been in the emergency room?: my second home What's the easiest thing ever to do?: breathe The Letter F Have you ever flown in a plane?: duh Do you use fly swatters?: its called a newspaper or any kind of spray Have you ever used a foghorn?: yesss..great times The Letter G Do you chew gum?: no regularly Are you a giver or a taker?: it depends on how im feelin giver Do you like gummy candies?: not really The Letter H How are you?: greeeeat What color is your hair?: browns The Letter I What's your favorite ice cream?: piece of cake Have you ever ice skated?: every year been a few years.. Do you play an instrument?: plenty only the drums these days.. and not even good The Letter J What's your favorite jelly bean brand?: dont like jelly beans Do you wear jewelry?: earrings.. chain bracelet The Letter K Who do you want to kill?: no one my brother Do you want kids?: ew Where did you go for kindergarten?: ps7.. ooow The Letter L Are you laid back?: as laid back as can be Do you lie?: often not anymore The Letter M Whats your favorite movie?: 5th element Do you still watch Disney movies?: uh huh i just signed up disney plus nigga its lit Do you like mangos?: no The Letter N Do you have a nickname?: i have plenty What is your real name?: ness Whats your favorite number?: tres Do you prefer night over day?: uhmm sometimes i’m a morning person..early morning The Letter O What's your one wish?: id have my BEAUTY already i dont even remember which girl this was referring to lmaooo Are you an only child?: i wish The Letter P What one fear are you most paranoid about?: large bodies of water.. i can swim.. but yeh.. thas too much.. What are your pet peeves?: people =| What's a personality trait you look for in people?: sense of humor.. big plus if you dont mind putting up with my shit too =] The Letter Q What's your favorite quote?: accept nothing question everything Are you quick to judge people?: not really The Letter R Do you think you're always right?: no.. i know for a fact sometimes im wrong.. but so what... Are you one to cry?: eh.. from time to time not lately The Letter S Do you prefer sun or rain?: rain Do you like snow?: indeed fuck snow What's your favorite season?: fall The Letter T What time is it?: 210 1113 What time did you wake up?: 8.. then 11.. 4.. then 7 When was the last time you slept in a tent?:my lil mermaid tent hahah.. i dont remember how old i was.. i had that shit up in the corner of my room for madd long tho..smh.. good times The Letter U Are you wearing underwear?: when am i ever? i was a funky ass kid man.. smh.. Underwear or boxers?: this is a stupid question =| lmao same thing ass The Letter V What's the worst veggie?: anything thats not broccoli.. spinach.. or carrots.. Where do you want to go on vacation?: vacation.. meh.. The Letter W What's your worst habit?: i say/do things when its too late Where do you live?: here What's your worst fear?: failure The Letter X Have you ever had an x-ray?: yes Have you seen the x-games?: yesss.. i went last year.. i might go again this year Do you own a xylophone?: ermm no The Letter Y Do you like the color yellow?: golden yellow What's one thing you yearn for?: meh... peace The Letter Z Whats your zodiac sign?: UR MOTHER.. na.. lmao.. im trippin.. leo gang Do you believe in the zodiac?: no.. =| Favorite zoo animal?: penguins go so hard

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arcanalogue · 5 years ago

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Death and the Maiden, Cooking Edition: Pomegranate Tiramisu

Fahwad Khan, IMPERMANENT (THE POMEGRANATE SKULL) 2014

Pardon the long post, but I just don’t know where else to go with this. And even in terms of recipe posts it will be annoying because there’s the dreaded backstory — but I’m sharing in honor a friend who passed away, so I guess if you feel terrific about skimming past all that to get to a cake recipe one minute faster, no one can ever question your commitment to gastronomy.

So here’s the deal. Back in 2011 I was hosting a monthly variety show that featured numerous components: film, live music, burlesque, PowerPoint presentations, arts & crafts, really ANYTHING.

My friend Cas Marino wanted in on the action; he was a performer, but he was so much more than that. He was performing life, quite vividly; he was a cancer survivor who’d never stopped transforming. He played serious dramatic roles in productions all over New York City, he was happy to dive into a drag revue, he would host salons and get-togethers in his Midtown apartment, and on top of everything else, he was working on a blog called “The Food Daddy,” which was entertaining to read even if you couldn’t cook. As you’ll see below, everything he touched became infused with his humor and personality.

He’d appeared in a number of my shows, usually in drag inspired by that night’s theme. Here he is on the night we read excerpts from Elsa Lanchester’s then-out-of-print memoir.

Here he is, drinking milk right out of the carton on the night we did a whole show about the trope in fiction about women who transform into cats. (I’m telling you, dear reader, I was truly living my best life as a producer!)

This was all in a lovely professional downtown establishment, so naturally I was interested in bending every possible rule past the breaking point. So when Cas asked if he could make food for my entire audience, I said YES... and then went to inform the venue so they could explain why it was completely against the rules. (In this instance, they had their own cafe on-site that was strictly kosher, and they could not risk confusion or contamination with outside food.)

I don’t recall exactly how we pulled it off, but Cas began showing up at my events armed with enough food to serve 75 people (the theater’s capacity). Do you realize how incredible that is, reader? Sometimes we’d sell out, but sometimes we’d only have 15 folks in the audience, half of them comps. Cas believed in me so hard, he planned for a sold-out show every time. He would have been offended if we ran out of kibble with even one person left to feed.

The food was always on theme, so when I did a show about America’s First Ladies, he combined vintage recipes from Barbara Bush and Rosalynn Carter to make Bipartisan Buffalo Chicken Sliders, which he served dressed as Eve, the original “first lady,” mostly naked and covered in vines.

As you’ll read below, he agonized over the perfect thing to serve at our “Death and the Maiden” show. At one point, it was going to be mini-eclairs filled with pomegranate cream and tipped with an almond fingernail. He finally settled on this original tiramisu recipe that knocked us all COMPLETELY OUT. And I ate the leftovers out of my fridge for days, because letting even one serving go to waste felt like a desecration.

Look, I’m telling you he could COOK. He once described his culinary style to me as “tragically indulgent.” His fantasy (like so many others at the time) was to parlay his food blog into an actual cookbook someday.

Sadly, Cas did not live to fulfill this particular dream. In 2014 his cancer returned, and he faded away right before our eyes. From his hospital bed, he wrote me: “I have to survive this just to write about it and do a one-man show where I cook and feed and we all laugh and sob and go ‘Mmmmm that's fucking good’ and it just becomes a big audience/artist participation evening of sharing where I am the only one who gets to talk.”

That same year, I managed to recreate his Pomegranate Tiramisu and serve it to friends as my birthday cake; for a couple years afterward, I would look the recipe up on his website and fantasize about making it again. The ingredients weren’t cheap, and it required more kitchen space than I had in NYC.

And then the worst thing happened: at some point after Cas’s death, the domain expired and his blog went 404, and ONLY THEN did I realize I hadn’t scribbled it down anywhere. People say “the internet is forever,” but hell... even Tumblr users know differently.

I spent a few more years being very depressed about this, imagining the recipe was lost forever, but it turns out someone had managed to preserve the blog’s contents, and at long last it fell back into my hands. BACK FROM THE DEAD! Not unlike the Bride of Frankenstein herself.

So I’m going to let Cas take it from here, dear reader. Thank you for letting me bring him back to life for a just few minutes, performing for you, feeding you. Knowing that would’ve meant everything to him. From one of his last messages to me: “I have no designs on sainthood. But I know I still have shit to accomplish in this world, even if not a physical member of it.”

Knock ‘em dead, Cas!

“The Food Daddy” - Pomegranate Tiramisu

This recipe was created by me to fit the bill for the recent “Meet the Lady” performance (which, if you’ve not heard or read, is a monthly variety show that really rather defies description), titled “Death and the Maiden”.

I toiled with possible ideas that had to do with death and maidens, figuring most easily that a “death by chocolate” offering would at least use one of the title words. Then lady fingers came into the thought process because, well, if you dismembered a maiden you’d have two byproducts: death, most notably, and lady parts — including, but not limited to, her fingers.

Lady fingers naturally led to Tiramisu fantasies, but I didn’t want to go the traditional route. And after discussing it and brainstorming, I got smacked in the back of the head with the realization that the mythical Persephone — a maiden — kidnapped as she was by Hades — who, by way of his being the god of the underworld, was death its very self in semi-human form — ate nothing but pomegranate seeds during her detainment in hell.

If this doesn’t spell fucking dessert, I don’t know what does.

Herewith, my scaled-down recipe (in scope, not in structure or composition; I doubt you’ll need to serve 75 people with yours, though even at half-size this will serve a small army). You can pare it down even further if you feel such need, or instead of making it into one big sheet cake, assemble several smaller ones (I found this worked BEAUTIFULLY in loaf pans) and send them straight to the freezer for future enjoyment.

A few other flexible considerations: I made mine in a full-size deep steam table pan for presentation and food service purposes. These things measure roughly 20 x 10 x 3.5”, but you can use the smaller (12 x 9 x 2.5”) disposable aluminum half-pans for this recipe, or as stated above, any other configuration of sizes that suit your needs. If you want to unmold it and slice it after freezing, line your pans first with cellophane wrap. After just a minute or two out of the ice box, you’ll be able to lift it out of the pan (perhaps with the help of a hungry friend) by the ends of the cellophane, place it on a cutting board, and have at it. Tres artistique, even weighing in as mine did at about eight pounds. This last conclusion required me getting on the scale both with and without the final dessert in my arms and subtracting the first weight from the laden number, which could have been quite a site, as I generally refuse to step on a scale until I’ve removed every last stitch of clothing including my socks, and spit out any spare saliva and shaved every last facial hair so NOTHING will add even a bazillionth of an ounce to my readout, lest I suffer a deep fit of depression. And being depressed when you’re holding what turns out to be 8 pounds of really good cake is a recipe for emotion-eating disaster. But I staved off the need to feel slimmer than normal in light of the facts that (a) I was mid-movie shoot that week, and thus had to maintain a larger-than-usual mane of face-hair for my role; (b) spitting near food meant for others would be gross; (c) being naked around the same food would be even grosser; and (d) the tile floor in my bathroom could be a bit chilly, so why risk taking off my socks?

Socks, spitting, scanty clothing — nothing could have made this less enjoyable. The audience that night devoured what was served to them, and all but attacked the leftovers on the way out of the theater. I had sent samples of this creation to my usual team of taste-testers for input as part of the development process, and perhaps the most poignant and fitting critique came from my dear Mom who, just having started a new diet regimen, had the following to say during our brief check-in on the phone:

“Hello. This is your mother. Fuck Weight Watchers, and Fuck You.”

I love you, Mom. And not just because you loved this surprising new take on an old favorite.

60 Lady Finger cookies

4 Cups Pomegranate juice

1-½ Cups plus 2 Tbsp. sugar

1 Packet unflavored gelatin

4 Egg whites

1 tsp. Cream of Tartar

1 Cup Mascarpone cheese

3 Cups Crème Fraiche

1 Tbsp. Corn starch

¼ Cup water (or as needed)

½ Cup sliced almonds

¼ Cup Pomegranate seeds (or dried sweetened cranberries)

(Reserve 6 Lady Fingers for garnish.)

In a saucepan, mix pomegranate juice with 1-½ cups sugar, and sprinkle gelatin on top. Stir or whisk until gelatin is dissolved with no lumps remaining. Bring mixture to boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly until sugar and gelatin are fully dissolved. Reduce heat to medium-low and continue to boil, stirring often, for 10 minutes. Remove from heat and set saucepan into a larger bowl filled with cold water. Stir frequently and change cold water bath often, allowing juice reduction to cool as close to room temperature as possible.

In the bowl of a stand mixer or with electric beaters, whip egg whites with cream of tartar until stiff. Remove to a separate, clean mixing bowl (preferably chilled in the freezer) and set aside.

In stand mixer or large mixing bowl with electric beaters, mix mascarpone with 1-½ cups of cooled juice reduction until well blended. Beat on medium-high for one minute. Add 1 cup of the crème fraiche and blend until smooth. Finally, fold in beaten egg whites, half at a time, just until fully incorporated.

Assembling the tiramisu: Here’s where Food Daddy starts getting anal (but this works easiest, so just shut up and do as I say. Love you!). On your prep surface, set your plate or bowl of unpackaged lady fingers (you don’t want to be messing with cellophane and plastic bags and such mid-project here); next to that, set your remaining juice reduction; and next to that, set your cake pan.

Working from left to right (or for my Hebrew or dyslexic foodies, right to left), dip a lady finger lightly in the juice by placing it on the liquid’s surface, flipping it over with your fingers, then removing it by hand and placing it in the cake pan. Working quickly, repeat this process, building a tightly packed layer of side-by-side, row-by-row, lightly soaked lady fingers on the bottom of the pan. Nobody will see the inside of the tiramisu in its entirety, so if to make a uniform layer with few gaps you need to rip a finger here or stuff a finger there, I won’t tell a soul if you have to be a bit forceful or creative.

Spoon half of the pomegranate mousse mixture over the bottom layer of lady fingers. Using the back of a spoon or a rubber spatula, spread the mixture evenly. Lift the pan and drop it gently a few times on your work surface, just to make sure all the gaps are filled and big air bubbles are removed.

Repeat with a second layer of dipped lady fingers, and then a second layer of pomegranate mousse, again tamping pan to release air bubbles and distribute the filling evenly. Top with one final layer of dipped lady fingers.

Spread the top with the remaining 2 cups of crème fraiche, tamp pan to settle the layers, and set aside.

Pour remaining juice mixture into a measuring cup, and add enough of the water, if needed, to make 1 cup of liquid. Return to saucepan, and stir in the corn starch and the remaining 2 Tbsp. of sugar until starch is dissolved. Place pan over medium-high heat, and bring to a boil to thicken. Remove from heat.

In a food processor or with a cutting board and knife, coarsely chop the almonds and the fruit, then add the reserved lady fingers and pulse (or chop and crumble) until the whole thing looks like somebody pawed at a poor helpless berry-nut muffin until there were no big chunks left.

Sprinkle the crumb mixture evenly over the top of the tiramisu. Drizzle with the pomegranate syrup mixture.

Chill tiramisu at least 2 hours in refrigerator before serving. For overnight storage or longer, cover with cellophane wrap gently pressed against the top surface.

This will “cure” and the flavors will blend and the whole combination really pull together if left refrigerated for two days. For storage beyond that or to deal with leftovers, this freezes BEAUTIFULLY. Just allow to come to room temperature before serving, or enjoy it “semi freddo” by removing from freezer and slicing wide, inch-thick slices, laying each on its side on individual serving plates and eating it cold and firm. A dollop of additional crème fraiche and a sprinkling of chopped almonds (did I hear someone say “mint sprig”?) sure would make this anything but a “leftover” dessert.

#death and the maiden #pomegranate #tiramisu #recipes #cooking #cas marino

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shinobicyrus · 6 years ago

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Hungry Like the Wulf

@logicalghost requested that their Christmas Truce gift be “Some content of Wulf and Danni together being pals.”Friend, you came to the right place.

Dani spots the ghost-cops first, over a dozen of them flying in formation, armored in riot gear and faces hidden behind visors like the ghosts of police brutalities past. She steers clear, backing into some midnight shadows against a brick wall, but it’s not necessary. They’re completed focused on something else; calling out to each other, harassing and circling and firing beams from their nightsticks at something she can’t see.

This all seems very familiar, somehow.

Whatever, ecto-memory déjà vu is something Dani is used to at this point. She pulls out her phone from her pants - because jumpsuits don’t have pockets and Danny is stupid - to check the time. Sees not only is it late, but she has four unread messages from her clone-bro and six more from Jazz. Probably wondering where she is.

Duh, making great decisions, obviously.

Turning invisible and trailing them cautiously, Dani catches up to them near the warehouse district, because everything great at one in the morning always happens near a bunch of old warehouses. She hears the tail end of a scuffle as she approaches one building painted with tagger handles and ghost graffiti and peeks her head through the wall.

There are definitely less riot-cop ghosts in here than she had spotted in the air- the smears of lightly glowing ectoplasm splattered on the floor and walls are pretty strong evidence what probably happened to them.

Even with only half of them left, it’s still enough to dogpile on the single hulking shape on the floor. The dusty concrete floor is scratched with huge gouges and the thing is all muscles and fur, snarling and struggling to shake off the Ghost-Zone Five-O while they affix glowing, high-tech looking manacles to its wrists.

It snaps out with a wolf-like muzzle full of sharp teeth, growling obscenities in an eerily familiar language that flips a switch in the back of Danielle’s head. Her lips move without her thinking.

“...Wulf?”

No one else in the warehouse seems to hear her, but the pointed ears of the werewolf-looking ghost (Wulf, why does she know his name is Wulf?) twitch before the ghost-cops shove his face into the ground.

One ghost is semi-standing a few feet away overseeing the spectacle, shirtless except for the long, douchey red cape. He’s got an eyepatch and an even douchier goatee. There’s some kind of blaster belted on his hip, but he’s still just standing there watching the other ghosts do all the work, holding up a fist-sized cube that has a warbling, glowing aura coming off of it.

“Walker’s gonna be glad to hear that this little toy ended up doing the job,” Eyepatch tosses it up and down lazily,, savoring the whole situation. “This new mayor’s got a lot more goin’ for him that the last duly-elected meatsuit.”

“Mi eskapis iam antaŭe,” Wulf snarls into the ground. One of the cops prods the sparking end of its baton into his neck and he flitches. “Mi...mi povas fari ĝin denove.”

“Not this time, mutt,” Eyepatch gives the cube another toss. “So long as we’ve got this, you can’t use those claws of yours to cut through the fabric between dimensions and...and...”

About this time he notices that the cube never came down.

“See, I thought this looked like one of dad’s evil doohickeys! Nice to see he’s making friends with someone besides his cat.”

Eyepatch whips around to find Dani floating visibly overhead, turning over the cube and studying at it closely.

(Yep, definitely looks like a box-thingie. Hmm, yes, fascinating)

Eyepatch wastes a few seconds staring at Dani, then back at his empty hand still hanging expectantly open. “Wha- who- where did you- give that back!”

“But I’m looking at it.” She keeps fiddling with it like it’s a stubborn Rubik’s cube. “Is this twisty bit here important? This seems important.”

“I don’t know where the black hells you came from,” Eyepatch raises a two-pronged blaster that charges up with a high-pitched whine. “But you have three seconds to turn over Walker’s property before I-”

Dani licks the cube.

It tastes like metal, ozone, and that buzzy weird taste she’s come to associate with ectoplasm. Like someone put formaldehyde and grave dirt in a blender with old lime jello. Blegh.

The arm holding up the blaster wavers, then lowers as the ghost gapes at her. “Did you- did you just-”

“I licked it it’s mine now,” Dani tells him. “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“That’s NOT a ru-” He grinds his teeth. With a snap of his fingers, the entire posse of ghost-cops rush off of fully chained-up Wulf and flank Eyepatch in a loose cordon. Shields up and batons all pointed at Dani like a firing squad. “I don’t know who you think you are, interfering wi-”

“Dani Phantom.”

“-official poli- wait what?”

“Dani Phantom,” she repeats. “You asked who I am. That’s me.”

“You’re not Danny Phantom.”

“Uh, yeah I am. Look!” She points at the symbol on her hoodie. “See! I have the ‘D’! And I am clearly talking about the logo, not my chest, for the record.”

“You’re not Danny Phantom! We’ve all met Danny Phantom and he’s a-”

“Oh yeah, he’s like my...cousin? Twin brother? We’re related, but it’s like, really complicated.”

A few of the cop-ghosts lift up their helmet visors and exchange puzzled looks.

“You’re both named Danny Phantom?” One of them speaks up.

Eypatch spins around to face him, furious. “Shut up, Gerald!”

Dani says to Gerland, “Yeah, but I’m Dani with an ‘i’.”

“That must get really confusing,” the same ghost-cop nods sympathetically.

“Thank you, yeah it really is! Everyone else is like, ‘oh we can just call you ‘elle’ and yeah Danny had the name first but I still don’t see why I have to change my-”

Eyepatch lifts up his blast and fires, making the upper body of the ghost-cop that spoke up disappear in a rush of ruby energy. What’s left of his lower half loses all consistently and melts into a puddle on the floor.

“Fraternizing with lawbreakers is. Against. The. RULES!” Eyepatch roars at the puddle. The other cops float back a few nervous feet.

Dani’s gasps. “Gerald, no! He was like, my best friend and everything! What the hell, dude?”

“Now imagine what I’m going to do to you, you little punk.” He levels the blaster up at her again. “If you don’t that box over right the fu-”

“Kay.” Dani tosses the cube at him. He actually drops his gun, fumbling with both hands before he finally gets a solid enough hold on it.

“Uh...right. That’s...good.” He looks down at the cube at his hands as if he can’t quite believe that it’s actually there. “Well...don’t think this means we’re going to be lenient on you, especially since you just gave up your only bargaining chip! Heh.”

He chuckles with a grin of crooked teeth and nasty promises. The rest of his crew join in, if a bit more nervously.

Dani flaps her hand. “Meh, it’s okay, I didn’t really need it anyway. I just needed to district you for a bit while the other-me got Wulf outta those chains.”

Eyepatch and the ghost-cops stop laughing.

“....come again.”

“Saluton.”

Warily, they all turn in unison and see Wulf, free and towering over them, teeth bared. Peeking over his shoulder is another Danielle, who waves at them.

Wulf growls out in stilted English: “Run.”

The ghost-cops all scatter in different directions, leaving Eyepatch rooted to the spot, still holding the cube.

Ever-so slowly, Eyepatch lifts up the cube up to Wulf, who plucks it delicately out of his hand with two claws and crushes it in his massive paw.

“I think I’ll just...uh....” Eyepatch cocks his thumb over his shoulder. “I think I’ll just go...now...?”

Wulf’s grimace turns into a grin. “Lasu min helpi vin.”

With one paw, he grabs Eyepatch by the throat and lifts him clear off the ground. The other paw reaches out and slashes at the empty air next to them.

It reminds Dani of a green screen, like he’d ripped away a piece of the fake background and revealed another world beneath it. Through the jagged hole Dani can see the writhing black expanse of the Ghost Zone, but no place she’s ever seen before. Skeletal trees of jagged crystal fractals, pits of crackling ectoplasmic fire, and somewhere- echoing distantly but still incredibly loud- a hungry roar shakes the rusted guts of the warehouse all the way down to Dani’s ribcage.

“Waitwaitwaitwheredoesthatportallead-AGGHHH!”

Wulf throws him through. The air snags and the hole seal itself up with a little pop of air, cutting off Eyepatch’s scream instantly.

“THAT WAS FOR GERALD!” both Danis roar simultaneously.

The warehouse is suddenly very quiet. Wulf’s heavy panting echoes very loudly on hollow concrete. His hoodie is filthy and torn in places and his hackles are raised.

“Hey man, you okay?” Dani asks.

“Yeah, you were kind of in a bad way,” her duplicate adds.

Wulf steadies his breathing. “Mi estas...mi estos bone.”

“Really?” Dani says skeptically. “’Cause you do not look okay.”

He stands up a little straighter, ears perking with interest. “Vi...komprenas min?”

The duplicate Dani (Dupli? Dupli-Dani? Yeah! Dupli-Dani) shrugs. “I mean...more or less? We know a couple of languages including Spanish or Portuguese.”

“So we can get the gist of it,” Dani finishes.

Seeing Wulf’s head dart confused between two different Danis, she floats up to her duplicate and holds out a fist. “Nice work on the chains, Dani.”

“Thanks, Dani!” Dupli-Dani returns the fist bump. “You weren’t so bad of a distraction.”

“Aw, shucks, now you’re making us blush.”

“You know we can’t resist making cute girls blush,” Dupli-Dani winks.

“Mi tre konfuzas nun,” Wulf confesses.

“Sorry,” they say in unison. Both Danis glow, and then Dupli-Dani’s form wavers like a reflection on water and shifts back into Danielle’s body. “Sorry about that, just unlocked that little trick last week and it takes some getting used to. Is it weird that I always end up hitting on myself when I do that? No reason, asking for a friend.”

Wulf is suddenly in her face- she’s floating only a few feet off the ground, and she almost recoils at such something so huge and toothy in her personal space, but starts giggling when his noises starts sniffling all over her.

“Ahhh! Hahahaha, quit it!” She giggles and squirms when his cold wet nose snuffles over her bare midriff.

“Oh! So-ry,” He rears back, brow scrunching adorably up in confusion. “Amiko Danny?”

“Uh...sorta?”

“Vi odoras kiel li, sed vi estas...malsama.”

“It’s a long story, but...you can call me Danielle, if it helps?”

He thinks about it for a few moments, then shakes his big, furry head. “Ne, vi estas Amiko Dani.”

“Aw, I heard the ‘i’ in there. Thanks big guy.” She rubs the back of her head and looks helplessly around the warehouse. “So uh...were you like...doing anything tonight before the Green Meanies tried to throw you in the slammer?”

“Ne vere,” He shrugs. “Eble vi povas diri al mi vian tre longan rakonto?”

“I’d...I’d like that? Yeah! You hungry?”

Even someone without any understanding of Esperanto couldn’t misinterpret the sudden lolling tongue. “Ĉiam.“

Wulf glances nervously up and down the street. This late there aren’t even buses or a stray car going down the road. Nothing but the traditional creatures of the night: ghostwolves, half-ghosts, goths, and service industry workers on the skeleton shift.

The shop window next to them was dark. Wulf adjusts his baseball cap in the reflection of the glass. “Ĉi tio estas stulta.”

“Is not.” Thinking it would be unfair that he’d be the only visible ghost in the place, Dani stayed in her ghost form as well. When she stood next to him, she could see both of their eyes glowing back at them in the window.

“Ĝi ne funkcios.”

“It’ll totally work, trust me.”

“Bone. Sed estos via kulpo, se ili panikos.”

“Midnight breakfast or a coffee shop full of panicking goths. I’m fine with either one.”

She walks across the street towards the diner, completely undisguised save the her spare hoodie covering her noticeable costume.

Perfect. No one will suspect at thing.

Wulf sighs loudly before following her.

They elected to take the long route there, Dani flying along Wulf while he loped on all fours across rooftops. She doesn’t think he can actually fly, which is weird because the only other ghost she’s met that doesn’t is Sidney, and he claims it’s because he gets vertigo when he floats.

Still, at least Wulf has the claw-portal thing. That’s pretty cool.

At the door, Wulf hunches low, ears flat against his head while he wrings his giant paw-hands nervously.

“Relax, Duran-Druan,” Dani reaches up and pats his arm. “I have it on good authority that freaking out over a ghost is an instant loss in goth-cred. It’ll be fine.”

He only nods quietly and hunches lower, trying to appear as small as possible.

The diner is exactly like she remembers: skulls everywhere, memorabilia of vintage movie monsters, some occult imagery that would make Sam’s mom faint, a wall turned into a crowded collage of dozens of punk-rockers from unknown local bands to Violent Pacifist and Dumpty Humpty.

“Hi there!” Dani walks up to a bored looking waitress whose dark mascara is hiding the tired bags under her eyes pretty well. She’s cute, all piercings, short pink hair, and a skirt that is mostly impractical buckles.

“Hey,” she returns, bored and sleep deprived.

“Can we get a table for three, please?”

“Three? But there’s only tw-” she freezes, finally noticing the seven foot tall shaggy wolfman ghost behind what she’d probably originally assumed to be a white-haired goth girl.

Dani smiles pleasantly at her, fully aware that her eyes are glowy ghostly bright. “I think he counts as two on his own, yanno?”

Wulf waves at her shyly.

“Uh. Right. Yeah. Sure.” She actually recovers admirably, blinking a few extra times at Wulf like she’s trying to reset her eyes before gathering up two menus. “This way, please.”

She leads them through the diner, past couples, trios, and small booths of various goths, punks, the occasional emo, and a few ghost-groupies in Ember merchandise.

Most look at Wulf for no more than few seconds before returning to their black coffees, phones, and conversations.

Dani elbows Wulf and stage-whispers. “Told ya.”

The waitress sits them down at a corner table next to a rainbow flag that’s decorated with spooky bats. It’s a bit of work with the tail, but Wulf manages to situate himself on the study metal chair without any problems.

“Can I uh...start you off with anything?” She asks.

“Kafo, bonvolu.”

“Two coffees, please,” Dani translates.

“Got it,” her black sneakers make next to no sound as she goes to fetch the pot.

“Bone, vi estis korekta,” Wulf admits. He looks around all the diner, tail thumping against the legs of his chair as he takes in the atmosphere. ”Ĉu vi multe venas ĉi tien?”

“Yep, come here all the time after patrol. It used to be just goths but after a while it kinda became this...safe-spot for anyone that was out late at night that needed someplace safe. Plus, the coffee’s not bad.”

As if to prove her point, the waitress returns with a fresh pot and fills their cups to the brim.

“Dankon, sinjorino.” Wulf says, still reading the menu. The menu looks cartoonishly small in his paws.

“No prob. You two want anything to eat?”

Dani looks up from her menu. “Oven still on?”

“‘course.”

“I’ll have the Black Dahlia.”

“Tri...’March of Pigs,’” Wulf manages.

“You want three whole-” She looks at him again. “Uh, sure yeah, okay. Take about half an hour.”

“That works,” Danny hands back her menu. Wulf carefully does the same.

The waitress (the name tag on her chest says Abigail, Danielle finally notices) hesitates a moment at the sight of Wulf’s claws, but just as carefully takes the menu and says, “Just holler if you need anything,” before she leaves again.

Neither Dani or Wulf say anything. Somewhere, old speakers static out deceptively cheery Voltaire songs to serenade the witching-hour crowd with.

“Do..” Wulf starts awkwardly. “Vi diris ke vi havas longan rakonto-”

“I’m a clone.”

Wulf’s mouth snaps shut.

Dani noisily sips her coffee.

Thing is, Danny, Sam, and Tuck already knew. Danny had told Jazz, Valerie had found out in the worse way possible, and when the time came to finally out himself - and her- to Maddie and Jack, he’d done most of the talking while she sat next to him on the couch, squeezing Jazz’s hand hard.

She’s never actually said it. Especially not the ‘C’ word.

“I mean, I know I said it was a long story and it definitely is but when you boil it down that’s sort of the major part. We call each other ‘cousins’ to make it less weird but technically Danny’s more like my twin brother and the guy who made me was evil and couldn’t decide whether to throw me away or dissect me for evil science and it’s not like I can like, go to a therapist or a non-Jazz professional about this 'cause I think being the unwanted byproduct of an evil plot to replace a deranged billionaire’s teenaged archnemesis because I was a girl and had health problems from botched cloning techniques might have given me a few...issues.”

Wulf never once takes his eyes off of her. He blinks at her slow, gaze steady and pupil-less, but strangely not at all unnerving. His big wolf ears are perked and attentive.

“Also I can’t be 100% sure but I think I’m gay.”

Holding up the coffee cup with precise, dainty care in his claw, Wulf took a polite sip with a big, slooping green tongue, then set it down with a clink.

Finally, clearing his throat, Wulf says, slow and heavily accented: “That iz ruff, buddy.”

Dani stares at him.

He nods at her sagely, a giant, furry philosopher wearing a filthy hoodie and a stolen ‘Axion Labs’ baseball cap. Then, with a twinkle in his eyes, he grins at her.

Dani can’t hold it in anymore and bursts out laughing, keeling over and slapping the table as her sides start to ache.

When Abigail comes back to their table with two trays loaded with food, she’s even more confused than she had been before.

#Truce18 #Christmas Truce 2018 #Wulf #Dani Phantom #Danny Phantom #Merry Christmas #logicalghost #I had fun with this #I don't know when it happened #but I love the idea of these two generally forgotten side-characters being really weird pals #with Danielle insisting on taking the giant scary wolfman ghost to places he CLEARLY shouldn't be able to go to #but somehow Dani barrels through like nothing is weird and confuses all the normal people into submission #plus Dani's practically a half-feral ghost kid anyway she and Wulf would get along great #R.I.P. Gerald we hardly knew you

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 6 years ago

Text

Love Potion Extravaganza Ch. 1

Note: So first off, thank you @missnobodynobodius for commiserating with me about matching EoA with Crazy Ex Girlfriend songs and hearing this ridiculous story when it was a mere wish. Thank you, @shasta627 for helping me match some of the songs and which ones to cut. And thank you @pizzansunshine for helping me for agreeing to edit this monster. Now this story, if you can’t tell by the title, it has ships. So many ships and love. There’s Eleteo, there’s Manualtina, there’s Gabelena, there’s Estoma, there’s Alonsonaomi, there’s Gabela, one sided Gababel, there’s LuisaxFrancisco, there’s Gabenaomi! Unfortunately I couldn’t figure out how to add Estenaomi without adding young Esteban to the chaos😢 But even the Delgados get a turn. So yeah. Many many ships. Slightly suggestive themes. Think P-13. So I hope you enjoy this with its love and lust misadventures here. 🤗🥰😉

And to add here are the two songs I put in the chapter, if you want to listen along to it. West Covina reprise II https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=q8XuQbzoFss and Horny Angry Tango. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=x_rAmAYE-8I. Enjoy!

Elena knocked eagerly upon the workshop of her royal wizard who opened it with a teasing smile.

“You are really excited for this interkingdom alliance aren’t you?” With intentional slowness, Mateo lazily leaned against his door, noting her excited smile and eyes sparking with impatience at his not-quick-enough casualness.

“Yes I’m excited that Avalor is arranging the alliance between Cordoba and Paraiso, it’s an honor and that. But I really, really can’t wait for you to finally meet Alonso and Valentina!”

Elena’s quick eyes saw that Mateo wasn’t engaged in any particular task, evidenced by the tamborita stuck safely on his belt. He was just being slow to tease her! Well she took advantage of his smirking at her to grab his hand to break into an run towards the breakfast table.

“Considering the stories I’ve heard about them, should I be worried?” Mateo called out, stumbling a little at the brisk run bringing Elena to a pause.

“They’ve gotten better...ish. Well I feel like they have matured over the last few visits and with you there, I think it will be easier to deal with them. You’re just very patient with-” Elena paused and turned away to hide her blush.

Lately she had been feeling emotions towards Mateo that were a bit stronger than those she had towards Naomi and Gabe. They were all her friends but something with Mateo ran deeper. She appreciated his traits a bit more. His patience, his steadfastness, his trust, his compassion, how he always knew just the right words to say, how he was so modest but courageous at the same time. When he displayed his confidence, he didn’t act like obnoxious jerk but it was so endearing because underneath it all he was still sweet adorkable Mateo. And then his eyes....

There she went, thinking all about Mateo’s admirable traits. The list had been getting longer and she had been getting more flustered. Whenever she was in presence she had this urge to stand next to him, maybe even nuzzle the crook of his neck. He had such a warm body. That was one of the first things she had noticed when she hugged him during Navidad. She wanted to melt against him and he smelled of gingerbread too!

Elena stop this. He’s your friend. F-R-I-E-N-D Friend!

And now she kept blurting out small words about how much she cared for him. When she wasn’t even sure he liked her. Surely someone as expressive as he would have given some sign that he was interested.

Mateo looked at her questioningly, a light pink blush creeping up his neck.

“You’re so patient. Plus you’re a wizard. Your spells always save the day,” Elena finished lamely, hoping that she hadn’t revealed her attraction for him.

“Uh yeah of course thanks!” Mateo stammered, willing the flush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks to go away. .

Keep calm. She’s just being her usual sweet self.

Mateo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, glancing at Elena’s long raven hair. It was so shiny and smooth like if the nighttime sky had become a river of hair that smelled like strawberries. Mateo sighed. He was hopelessly desperately in love with the crown princess who was totally out of his league and he just couldn’t shake off his crush.

He suppose it had started sometime around the aftermath of Fiero’s first attack. The way she encouraged him to take up his grandfather’s mantle was so precious to him. She had been the only one who showed such trust and belief in his magic skills. Ever! His mother cared for his skills, yes, but that was only after Shuriki’s return and even then she didn’t know enough to get too involved with his studies. The rest of Avalor, ha. They didn’t know the difference between a wizard or a malvago. But Elena. After she had gotten out of the amulet, she shared such confidence in his skills, he didn’t want to do anything to disappoint her.

He had thought that was normal. Some friendly devotion between princess and royal wizard, between friends. But then he began noticing Elena even more. The way her optimism lit up whatever room she was in. How endlessly creative she was when it came to fixing problems and new ideas. Her devotion to her people and kingdom. How she always believed in the best of everyone. Her strength after everything she had gone through. She was not cynical, she was not bitter, she strived to do her best all the time.

The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to get to know her. He learned a little on Dia de Los Muertos two years ago when she told him about the dark prophecy. He learned some of her fears and her weaknesses and that only fueled his desire to help her. If she felt sad, he wanted to comfort her, if she felt weak, he wanted to be the one she could lean on. He said it as much when they went to Vallestrella, “I’ll always be here for you, Elena. No matter what.”

He would have to be crazy not to notice her gorgeous looks too. Her kind, enthusiastic face whose smile was like the sun, her bright eyes... he could go on and on.

But he knew it was useless. He was not a noble, he was not incredibly suave or handsome. He was just her friend. He knew she deserved someone who always went above and beyond. Someone who would help bring her kingdom prosperity and her happiness. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live up to the title of king. If she even had feelings for him which was doubtful. She could have anyone she wanted. Sometimes though, when she teamed up with him during missions or when she gave him a special gift that showed she was thinking about him or now, when she said how she appreciated him- a little spark of hope would burst inside. Maybe she could like him. But then all his doubts returned to remind him how fantastical that belief was.

The two entered the breakfast table where the cook had arranged several large platters of desserts. To suit Francisco’s enormous appetite no doubt, but Elena realized it was a bit much even for her abuelo. Plus there was an inordinate number of roses strewn on places on the table that were not covered by platters.

“The cook does know that Prince Alonso and Princess Valentina aren’t arriving until lunchtime right?” Mateo questioned.

“Oh no, it’s just for us.” The two teens spotted Luisa’s hand waving behind a cake resting at the front of the table.

The two went to the head of the table, inhaling scents of fresh tres leches, campechanas, pan dulces, cherries, empanadas, all sorts of sweet treats to the sight of Luisa sitting contentedly on Francisco’s lap and hand feeding him a cherry.

“What’s with all the food?” Elena asked, but the abuelos seemed to have forgotten her presence and were rubbing noses.

“Guys.” Elena cleared her throat. No notice. Elena coughed pointedly again. Nothing. “Abuela. Abuelo? “

No response. Elena exchanged a glance with Mateo, his perplexed expression mirroring hers down to the identical raised eyebrow. Elena turned back to her grandparents, squaring her shoulders and used her best commanding tone, “Francisco Flores and Luisa Flores please give your attention to me. Now.”

Luisa and Francisco jolted a little at Elena’s queenly voice and looked at her confusedly as if they had never seen her before.

“Is there something you want, dear?” Luisa said distractedly, brushing some crumbs off her husband’s mustache.

“I’m- We’re wondering what is with all the food?” Elena repeated her question.

Francisco proudly straightened in his seat, “This was all my idea. I wanted to show mi amor just how sweet she is with all of this” He gestured grandly at the table, “And we could feed each other all day just like at our honeymoon.”

“Oh Francisco, you’re such a romantic.” Luisa gave him a long, deep kiss. It could have been for 7 seconds but it was long enough for Elena and Mateo to feel uncomfortable so Elena coughed again.

“Can we have any of the food?”

“Sure sure.” Francisco waved his hand dismissively at them, gazing lovingly at Luisa while she whispered in her ear with a devilish smirk.

Elena and Mateo shrugged at each other and took a seat at the other end of the table. “Is it their anniversary?” Mateo asked with another look at the elderly couple who were engaged in another, more passionate liplock.

“No. Usually Abuelo wakes us all up by serenading Abuela in the morning. I should know, I never am able to sleep through it. I guess they’re just in a romantic mood.” Elena answered, a subconscious smile playing about her lips as she looked at her grandparents.

Mateo smiled upon seeing her smile. It was truly one of the most beautiful things in his world. “It’s nice that they are so in love with each other after all these years.”

With a dreamy tone, almost as if she was talking to herself, or confiding a secret to someone Elena replied, “I hope I have that someday too.”

“Me too.” Mateo agreed, lapsing into silence. He wished to say more, but at the same time he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to describe his perfect girl, and how it matched her description. But he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with her. No, it would be too much to bear if he made her uncomfortable.

The moment passed and Elena turned to focus her full attention on Mateo.

“Back to the alliance that will happen. I think you’ll hit it off with Valentina. The two of you can talk about wizardry all day long. Since she’s a beginner, maybe you can teach her a thing or two. You are a really good teacher.”

“Yeah, after letting Olivia bring a water spirit to life, I think I have some work to do.” Mateo chuckled self-deprecatingly.

“Don’t say that. You’re a great teacher. Without you I wouldn’t have mastered my scepter so fast or be able to do the invisibility spell.” Elena smiled, grabbing his hand to give a firm shake. Elena managed to keep her smile even though she wanted to gasp at the slight brush of electricity she felt from the touch of his hand that grazed up and down her spine in delightful little chills.

“When are they arriving again?” Mateo managed to squawk, in spite of the the sudden dryness in his mouth thanks to the soft touch of Elena’s hands tightly wound with his own.

“Princess Valentina and her guard arrived yesterday and are staying at Avalor’s finest resort. 5 stars. With a jacuzzi obviously. We would have let her room here but some of the palace staff haven’t gotten over her last visit.” Elena said and Mateo laughed a little, remembering Elena’s story of Valentina’s obnoxious bragging.

“Prince Alonso will be arriving sometime before-”

“Guitar!” Francisco’s voice called from the other side of the table which the servant brought up quickly.

Without any prelude, Francisco and Luisa sang in unison, “It’s not just a coincidence, it isn’t just by chance. It’s logical. It’s obvious. It all makes perfect sense. And I’m just so happy that you’re here.” Ending with Francisco dropping his guitar with a clang and sweeping Luisa more into his lap in a passionate kiss.

“They are really in love today.” Mateo commented, surprised how they could keep kissing without coming up for air.

“This is kind of strange. They’ve never acted this way before-” Elena was about to go on when the breakfast door banged open and Julio Guzman rushed to Elena’s side.

“Julio, what’s wrong?” Elena put a calming hand on Julio’s shoulder seeing the young man’s annoyed expression.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your breakfast princesa, but I came here early to discuss the possible trade opportunities for the alliance with Chancellor Esteban. It’s just-” Julio groaned showing his frustration, “He and Doña are fighting. Again! I try not to bring her to the meetings but Esteban insists I do because I don’t quite understand all the trade lingo yet. But whenever I do, they start fighting and ignoring me. They don’t even know I’m there and I can’t get a word in edgewise.”

Elena winced in sympathy. Whenever those two started one of their infamous fights, no one stood in their way and nothing could distract them from battling each other. Julio had confided his frustrations at being ignored before at meetings where he was supposed to be in charge before, but clearly her lectures hadn’t gone through to them.

“Um Abuela?” Elena called over to the other side of the table where she was met with annoyed glares from her grandparents for interrupting their romantic rendezvous.

“Esteban and Doña haven’t listened to me about not fighting during trade deals. Maybe... You can get through to them.”

Luisa sighed as if her request was just another chore in a very busy day but her smile brightened again when Francisco kissed her temple, promising, “Go help them. I’ll prepare some songs to serenade you by.”

Luisa gave a girly giggle and whispered something else into Francisco’s ear which he returned with an eyebrow wiggle, making Elena uncomfortable in a whole new way. She knew they were in love but...

What was more weird was Luisa’s reaction. She had never been so visibly annoyed before. She always had been so willing to drop all other tasks when it came to helping others. Except alone time with Francisco apparently.

Luisa quickly paced out to the hallway, calling after the younger adults who were staring at her in surprise and confusion, “Come on. I want to get this over quickly. Chop chop.”

The three jumped up and followed her in an obedient line, as they approached the Grand Council room, they could already hear voices raised. In angry song.

“I’m clearly not over you yet.”

“I’m clearly not over you either.”

Luisa opened the door to the almost familiar scene of Esteban and Doña Paloma, glaring nose to nose, circling each other. Eyes blazing with fury and pride.

“Our love has transformed into hate.”

“This is how left them.” Julio sighed.

To Elena and Mateo’s surprise instead of the usual insults, Esteban twirled Doña around, gripping her tightly so they would be back to back, singing,“Damn! Sex right now would sure be great.”

“What?” Elena was so shocked by that declaration she couldn’t manage a proper screech of surprise but a strangled whisper. Not that the two dueling adults would have noticed, their eyes were locked with each other as they performed a rather intricate tango.

“This is our horny angry tango!

I want to fight!

I want to bang!

This is our horny angry tango!

We’re truly furious but...

Dang! We’re also horny too!”

Mateo went white as he listened to the lyrics of the song, unsure of where he should look. He hoped that Elena didn’t see him glance at her to gauge her reaction and misinterpret it for something more..well horny.

“Excuse me. Is that anyway to talk with guests and children present.” Luisa interrupted, tapping her foot impatiently. Elena squawked at her abuela’s word choice and Mateo put a comforting hand on her shoulder, sharing a look that mimicked her outrage at being referred to as children.

Esteban and Doña glanced at them in the doorway and quickly pushed away from each other as if they were on fire.

“Sorry so sorry abuela.” Esteban gulped nervously, wiping some sweat from his forehead.

“We didn’t mean to- were we too loud?” Doña panted heavily, undoing her bun, “Just these trade deals are a bit hard to get through with all this heat--Will someone open a window?”

“It’s not surprising that it’s so hot. You do expel a lot of hot air.” Esteban commented snarkily as he took off his coat.

“My “hot air” is minor compared to your justifications that somehow we can afford to offer free port rights to Paraiso with nothing in return. Such a royal way of thinking.” Doña shot back, flinging her coat at him.

Esteban growled, shrugging off his blazer to pull her towards him with a smolder in his eyes, “I want to tear you limb from limb!’

Doña gripped Esteban’s hair and slid her leg up against his thigh, “And put your limbs all over my limbs!”

Esteban took advantage to her dip her several times, “Each time we fight I crave you more!”

He almost dropped her from that position when she ripped open his shirt to suggestively lick at his chest,“This would be better on the floor!”

At those words Elena turned around to rush out the door. It was bad enough that her abuelos were all lovey during breakfast but this was a scene that she did not want to witness! Her hands clapped firmly over her eyes, she bumped into the wall instead. Her head pounded but still very able to hear, “This is our horizontal tango!

We’re both pissed off...

And yet turned on!”

Mateo helped her stand up, keeping his eyes firmly transfixed to the floor. However curiosity of what the formerly appearance/reputation-conscientious Chancellor and lady were doing won over him. He flicked his eyes up to see Esteban and Doña’s new position. Writhing on the Grand Council Table. He was never going to see it the same way again.

“This is our horizontal, horny, angry tango!

Now it’s time for six bar long- classic tango dance break.”

Thankfully the adults got up from the table to execute a tango dance break, giving Elena time to wonder why her abuela was not looking so shocked. Esteban and Doña Paloma? They were rivals. They fought all the time. There couldn’t be any secret feelings between them. And if they had feelings, they wouldn’t do this. They wouldn’t be writhing around on the Grand Council Table in front of––everyone!

She looked at Mateo, knowing that he would know what she was thinking. Her abuelos kisses at breakfast, her cousin’s horny angry tango. Something was going on and they had to get to the bottom of it.

Before Mateo could nod back at her they were distracted by a resounding slap. They looked back to see Esteban sporting a bright red handprint on his cheek and an annoyed glare at the women who was in his arms. Sighing he sang, “I cannot slap you back, because you are a lady.”

Doña pursed her lips, “That clearly is a double standard. But it’s probably for the best.”

The two dipped one more time and were back face to face, “This is our horny angry tango!”

Pressed against each other, panting heavily, the room was silent as everyone waited for what would happen next.

Elena privately mused that this was the most disheveled she had seen her cousin and the former Magister. Hair was plastered to faces that were slicked with sweat, their eyes seemed glassy yet they were focused on not breaking the other’s stare.

“I can’t stand this.” Esteban said in a low husky tone filled with a hunger that Elena had never heard from him before, which made her a bit nervous about what he would do next.

The tension in the room was palpable and Elena desperately wanted to grab Mateo’s hand. She couldn’t stand thick tension like this, she needed action now or she was going to break in and try to switch the subject to-

In one sweeping move, Esteban pushed all the paperwork that had been piled neatly at the edge of the Grand Council Table onto the floor, scattering the white sheets everywhere.

“I must have you.” Esteban declared, pressing a series of urgent kisses on Doña’s neck and lips as he pushed her down against the table. As Doña arched back, breathlessly moaning in response, Elena turned to leave again, pulling Mateo behind her.

The action seemed to snap Luisa to her senses. Clapping her hands between them, she brought everyone’s attention to herself, and stopped Elena from starting her flight to safer quarters.

Esteban and Doña reluctantly broke apart and seemed surprised at the presence of other people in the room.

“Julio, when did you get here?” Esteban asked with genuine confusion.

“I’ve been here the whole time!” Julio cried, crossing his arms, grumbling unintelligible curses to himself.

“Nevermind him.” Luisa interrupted, “You, Esteban Flores, you have your very own room for privacy purposes like this. You should know better.”

“Um..That wasn’t the issue we came here for.” Mateo pointed out, “Also don’t you think this is a bit strange. Most business meetings don’t entail...tangos.”

Luisa sighed, putting her hands on her hips, “I can’t change whatever sexual tension there is simmering between them. Moreover I don’t care. Let’s get this resolved as quickly as possible, I need to go back to my beloved querido...” She paused. Next to her Esteban and Doña had gotten bored of the conversation and were passionately kissing, and whispering scandalous propositions to one another.

“They’re like horny teenagers?” Elena wrinkled her nose.

“Well they did say horny angry tango not chaste angry tango. I guessed we should expect this.” Mateo said.

“Hmm you’ve always said you were going to have begging your name..How will you ever accomplish that?” Doña murmured kissing his jawline, rubbing herself tantalizing against his chest.

“This is true.” Esteban’s breath hitched as his hand slipped underneath his dress, “And my dear, with my lips between your-.”

“Esteban! Please be discreet!” Elena cried, wishing for all the word that the past morning could be erased from her memories.

“Oh Elena, we Flores do not know the meaning of that word.” Esteban rolled his eyes as if he found her request to be incredibly naive.

Luisa grabbed Esteban’s ear like she used to do when he was a boy, “That’s enough of that. Here’s what we’ll do. Esteban and Doña please stay in Esteban’s room, Elena and Mateo greet the ambassadors and Julio... go back to Angelica’s. That settled? Good.”

Luisa strode out of the room with the confidence of a woman who could get things done. Elena turned to Julio, “I’m sorry, Julio. I think you better do what my abuela says for now. But I promise I will fix this issue. Next meeting you will be heard.”

“Thank you princesa, I do hope so.” Julio shook his head and left the room.

Mateo and Elena looked at each other, at a complete lost for words when a jingling got their attention.

Almost afraid to look, they saw Doña throw Esteban’s belt to the floor, he took her in his arms in a bridal carry and they exited the room, completely oblivious to the world around them.

“Let’s just go to Princess Valentina’s hotel.” Elena suggested, shuddering a bit, “We can figure out what is going on at the palace later.”

“Yes, you’re completely right.” Mateo agreed, giving Elena his arm as they walked the hallway to the carriage, “We should be focused on this alliance.”

The ride to their destination was silent more or less as the two tried to hype themselves up for the upcoming meeting and shrug away the confusion of the morning’s antics. Even though it was before lunchtime, they hoped Princess Valentina would distract them until the alliance meeting came to fruition.

Mateo opened the door for Elena to go out first like a true gentleman and Elena respectfully waited for Mateo to come out.

The hotel was half the size of the palace, fitting for its 5 star rating to include a pool, several in-room jacuzzis, a private indoor garden, three different types of restaurants, a club room and its hotel rooms. Perfect for Valentina’s extravagant tastes.

In fact Mateo could see a bit of what Elena meant by Valentina’s grandiosity. She was wearing a triple petticoat, poofy pink dress decorated with sparkles and a large rose at the hip. All of it was a shiny satin and her hair matched with satin pink ribbons and roses interwoven in her high updo. All of it screamed, Look at me. It was fine for the Princess of Paraiso he guessed, but he preferred Elena’s much more low-key looks anyday. She just had a natural beauty that shined no matter the outfit.

She was sitting at one of the hotel’s outdoor cafe tables with a man in a purple dress shirt bearing the Paraiso symbol, Manuel, Valentina’s loyal guard no doubt.

It was clear neither of them had noticed Elena’s arrival as they continued quietly talking over a bowl of strawberry ice cream. Just as Elena was about to go up to greet them, Manuel fed a spoonful of ice cream to Valentina. Valentina smiled, licking her lips mischievously and then leaned over to give him a deep kiss.

#eleteo #elena of avalor #love potion extravaganza #chapter one #my fanfic #my fanfiction #estoma #luisaxfrancisco #luisa flores #francisco flores #elena castillo flores #mateo de alva #julio guzman #suggestive #esteban flores #doña paloma

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lennonsilas · 3 years ago

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The thing that keeps people going is the people they meet along the way that are enthusiastic about the trip.

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chibi-jing · 7 years ago

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FFXV in French - Archives Translations - Stelae from Steyliff

Hello everyone! Here is the French text and the literal English translation for all the stelae found at Steyliff’s camps in FFXV Royal Edition! ^^

French

Bois de Steyliff

Que la lumière brille dans l’abîme ténébreux…

Sanctuaire d’Intellune

Dans leur grande sagesse, les Oracles apportent la paix dans le monde, leur resplendissant trident à la main. Celle de mon époque a fait preuve d’une abnégation exceptionnelle. Puisse le récit que j’inscris sur ces stèles transmettre sa bravoure à la génération qui verra naître le roi de la lumière.

Sanctuaire de Tunlough

Même les rois du Lucis ne reçoivent pas tous les mêmes faveurs des dieux, bien qu’ils en soient les élus. Je n’ai pas eu la chance d’être doté d’un talent pour l’art de la guerre, mais le destin m’a offert celle d’avoir une Oracle remarquable à mes côtés.

Sanctuaire de Scorpure

Notre monde est la proie de terribles daemons, mais contrairement à mon valeureux prédécesseur qui était toujours à la tête de ses troupes, je me tiens à l’arrière des miennes pour donner des ordres incertains et remercier le ciel d’être accompagné de Messagers divins pour nous mener à la victoire.

Sanctuaire de Courcaive

L’Oracle de mon époque était la plus remarquable de sa lignée, dotée d’un pouvoir inégalé et faisant preuve d’un altruisme sans limites. Elle a parcouru le monde jour et nuit pour libérer les gens de la souffrance et de la peur, leur apportant la lumière de l’espoir, aussi infatigable que le Soleil et la Lune.

Sanctuaire de Terrecephe

Quand j’ai appris que l’expédition des vestiges de la civilisation de Solheim avait été exterminée, j’ai compris que le frêle équilibre des forces venait d’être brisé en faveur des daemons. J’ai alors décidé de partir pour la ténébreuse forêt de Cleigne avec mon armée et l’Oracle qui était de passage à Insomnia.

Sanctuaire d’Essofax

La route vers Risorath était semée d’embûches. Notre expédition était retardée non seulement par le terrain inégal, mais aussi par les griffes et les crocs tapis dans les ténèbres qui s’étendaient sous l’épaisse canopée. Nous traversions l’obscurité uniquement guidés par la lumière du trident que brandissait le frêle bras de l’Oracle.

Sanctuaire de Vanderport

La lumière du trident de l’Oracle nous redonnait du courage. Elle perçait les ténèbres, dissipait les hordes de daemons et éclairait le flot de nos bannières. Nous avions le sentiment qu’elle ramènerait bientôt le calme en ces bois, même si un naglfar nous attendait au bout du chemin.

Sanctuaire de Sprannagh

Une fois la forêt traversée, nous avons découvert Vesper envahi par les flammes et des colonnes de fumée noire. D’innombrables éclairs fendaient le ciel assombri, non pas par des nuages, mais par une immense bête ailée dont émanait la foudre.

L’Oracle pouvait guérir le Mal de la planète et châtier les daemons, mais ses pouvoirs étaient impuissants face à une telle force de la nature. Les lames furent brisées, les bannières brûlées, et maintes vies arrachées. Nous fûmes contraints de tourner le dos à la terreur pour battre en retraite.

Sanctuaire d’Hepplecamp

Si des cieux nous parviennent les douces pluies nourricières, de ses ombres flottantes frappent les foudres meurtrières. Quand la nature nous accable de ces lances lumineuses, nous ne pouvons jamais que nous abriter et prier, mais quand il s’agit d’une bête furieuse, il nous est toujours possible de l’enfermer.

Le rite de la cage de l’Oracle est hélas notre seul espoir. Mon armée a pour tâche d’attirer la bête au plus profond des vestiges, où l’Oracle la retiendra au prix de sa vie. Je fais vœu de garder son trident et de la remplacer dans sa mission sacrée, jusqu’à ce que la prochaine soit en âge de lui succéder. Puisse le futur roi de la lumière être accompagné d’une Oracle aussi exceptionnelle que celle qui est à mes côtés.

English Literal Translation

Steyliff Woods (=Steyliff Grove)

May the light shine in the dark abyss…

Intellune sanctuary (=Haven)

In their great wisdom, the Oracles bring peace to the world, their resplendent trident in their hands. The one of my time has shown exceptional self-sacrifice. May the story I write on these stelae transmit her bravery to the generation that will see the birth of the King of Light.

Tunlough sanctuary

Even the Kings of Lucis do not all receive the same favors from the gods, although they are their chosen ones. I did not have the chance to be endowed with a talent for the art of war, but fate offered me the opportunity to have a remarkable Oracle by my side.

Scorpure sanctuary

Our world is prey of terrible daemons, but unlike my valiant predecessor who was always at the head of his troops, I stand in the back of mine to give uncertain orders and thank Heaven for being accompanied by divine Messengers to lead us to victory.

Courcaive sanctuary

The Oracle of my time was the most remarkable of her lineage, endowed with unparalleled power and endless selflessness. She traveled the world by day and by night to free people from suffering and fear, bringing them the light of hope, as indefatigable as the Sun and the Moon.

Terrecephe sanctuary

When I learned that the expedition of the vestiges of Solheim civilization had been exterminated, I realized that the frail balance of power had just been broken in favor of the daemons. I decided to leave for the dark forest of Cleigne with my army and the Oracle who stopped by Insomnia.

Essofax sanctuary

The road to Risorath was full of pitfalls. Our expedition was delayed not only by the uneven ground, but also by the claws and fangs lurking in the darkness that spread beneath the thick canopy. We crossed the darkness only guided by the light of the trident that the frail arm of the Oracle brandished.

Vanderport sanctuary

The light of the Oracle’s trident gave us courage. It pierced the darkness, scattered the hordes of daemons and brightened the flow of our banners. We had the feeling that it would soon restore calm in these woods, even if a naglfar was waiting for us at the end of the road.

Sprannagh sanctuary

Once the forest crossed, we discovered Vesper invaded by flames and columns of black smoke. Innumerable flashes split the darkened sky, not by clouds, but by an immense winged beast from which lightning emanated.

The Oracle could heal the Harm of the planet (=Starscourge) and chastise the daemons, but her powers were helpless against such force of nature. Blades were broken, banners burned, and many lives torn out. We were forced to turn our backs on terror to retreat.

Hepplecamp sanctuary

If from heaven come the sweet nourishing rains, from its floating shadows strike the murderous lightnings. When nature overwhelms us with these luminous spears, we can only shelter and pray, but when it comes to a furious beast, we can always confine it.

The rite of the Oracle’s cage is unfortunately our only hope. My army has the task of attracting the beast deep within the vestiges, where the Oracle will hold it back at the cost of her life. I vow to keep her trident and replace her in her sacred mission, until the next is old enough to succeed her. May the future King of Light be accompanied by an Oracle as exceptional as the one who is by my side.

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trulymadlysydney · 4 years ago

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Omg cely is so freaking cute and with Johnny, they’re definitely the strongest couple and get along the best. I kinda like kierstan but Carrington is not right for her. Did you see that tre randomly said he’s interested in kierstan tho??? Like wtf NOOOOOO. Also idk what Connor and Mackenzie are doing. She’s insane and I don’t think he knows what he’s doing but it’s gonna unfold eventually

Omg I’m watching the recap episode so I’m all caught up and can officially yell about everything!!!! AND ITS A LOT SO IM PUTTING IT UNDER A CUT

I’m like obsessed with Cely in general but her and Johnny are so fucking cute together like that is 100% the EXACT kind of relationship I would want. Her laugh is so cute and she’s like so positive and always giving the other girls pep talks and she’s SO confident like UGH *CHEFS KISS* I didn’t get to vote during the last major voting but I HOPE YALL VOTED FOR THEM AS MOST COMPATIBLE FOR TONIGHT’S EPISODE

Kiersten has absolutely grown on me and she deserves so much better than Carrington like come onnnn baby you’re better than him. ALSO YEAH LIKE WTF TRE?? JUST WHEN I THOUGHT THINGS WERE GOOD WITH HIM AND LAUREN HELLO??? I could noooot see him and Kiersten together at all.

Don’t even get me started on Connor and Mackenzie... she’s fucking crazy like I cannot count the amount of times I’ve rolled my eyes when she talks but Connor is starting to annoy me just as bad like.... king... grow a backbone d;lafkjd;l you can’t be telling everyone else one thing and then telling Mackenzie something else!!! I understand that he doesn’t want conflict because I’m the same way and I’m usually awful at communication but bruh this is going to bite him in the ASSSSSS if he keeps being weak like this. I’m so ready for Mackenzie to be gone and highkey think Lauren and Connor should’ve ended up together.

What are your thoughts on Rachel going home? I think it was super sad and she was really nice and gave really good advice but I genuinely don’t think that she had a special connection with anybody like that. And I have to say, Justine is surprising meeee like she is being lowkey shady... but on the other hand like good for her for finally feeling a connection with somebody

AND LASTLY, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON CALVIN AND MOIRA? I’m all for taking things slow like he’s trying to do, but I don’t think he’s 100% in on Moira and it makes me sad for her. I think he’s playing it safe. That being said though, I would still let him absolutely ruin my fucking life lmao I wish he had more screen time

#love island us

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losttman1093 · 5 years ago

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Chapter 1

It was just another normal weekend. I headed over to Mike's place for our monthly Dungeons & Dragons game as usual. Just another normal weekend and another normal game night, or so I thought. I pulled up to Mike's house at 6:30 A.M. Saturday morning, my usual show up time for these events, and to no surprise at all Tom and Chuck are already there. They were always very excited for this time of the month, we never got to see each other otherwise. We were all busy with work, school, and for one of us late night club hopping and debauchery. "Howdy Tre!" Yelled Tom enthusiastically. Tom and I go way back. I have very fond memories of our days in middle school and on his father's farm. I learned all my D.I.Y. abilities from Tom and his dad. I never met Tom's mother, till this day he doesn't talk about her. He was wearing his blue Star Trek starfleet science officer shirt, we told him not to wear any of his Trekkie stuff to our D&D games, but he was too much of a hard headed fanboy to listen, so we just let him get away with it, it's part of his charm. "Hello Tom" I said in eager reply. "How's engineer school?" "Oh, fine and dandy" He claimed with an unenthusiastic smile on his face. "Same as always, writing more papers than actually doing engineer work". That was always his answer. We just learned to accept it. "What's crackin Ash Tre?" Chuck said with a drunk slur. Ash Tre, that was his wretched nickname for me. He gave it to me one night in a bar off Main Street. I've regretted that night ever since. He smelled like lime beer and menthol cigarettes, just like always. I was not good friends with Chuck but since he was Mike's older brother I learned to tolerate his insubordinate nature. He never struck you as a role-player, drug lord maybe, but He was the most experienced of us all. He told stories of how his buddies in college played D&D in their dorm's lobby all the time. I always dreaded when He was Dungeon Master, He was always a huge douche bag especially to me. Luckily, it was Mike's turn to be DM this month. "Oh, nothing much. Just working hard" I said indifferently. The less small talk I had with Chuck the better. "How are you old friend?" Mike said invitingly. Mike was my closest friend. We were roommates in college and were inseparable. We did everything together, most people asked if we were brothers. Him and I went through a lot together. When both of our grandparents were in the hospital at the same time we helped each other get through it, I don't think we would have otherwise. We were first in line to the premier of X2:X-men United Him in his Cyclops outfit, me in my Gambit outfit. We were what some would call cosplayers, though we never considered it as such since we only did for big superhereo movies. We even held both top high scores on Pac-man at the local arcade in our college town. We always competed in everything, though Mike was always one point better than me, my Pac-man score was 253,890,000, his was 253,890,001. He always got some weird cheep thrill of being just slightly better than me, cheeky bastard. "I'm fine, It's been too long Mike" I moaned. We all walked into Mike's house. It was a small style house. On the main floor you had the living room with the dining table and kitchen on the right. The two bed rooms and single bathroom were to the left. "Where's Mary and the kids?" Chuck asked. "She took them to her mother's for the weekend. Mary said that we can have the whole house for our little game" Mike explained. "Sweetness" Tom exclaimed. In the middle of the living room was the game table. Mike always liked to set the game up before we got there, so we could get right to playing as soon as we all showed up. By every chair we each had our own personal "survival kit" filled with Doritos and Mountain Dew. Mike's chair was a nice comfy office chair, Tom's was a very basic office chair that had red cushions, Chuck's was a regular foldable lawn chair, and mine was a very basic wooden dining chair. The table was a nice sturdy metal card table. All of our D&D characters that we used for our four player campaigns were already layed out on our spots at the table. Everything was in place and we were ready to start. "Before we begin, I would like to show you all something" Mike said as he walked to his hall closet. He came back down the hall with what looked like a bowling ball wrapped in packing paper. "I found this at old Edgar's place" Uh oh. Edgar's was a pawn shop downtown where Mike lived. It was not a normal pawn shop though. The guy who owned it, Mr. Phillips Howard, had an inclining for the supernatural. He always had voodoo dolls and African ritual masks lying around the store. Demonic symbols on the walls, items He claimed were horocroxes, spell books, and every kind of dried herb could be found at that shop. It always gave me the creeps when we went there. I was happy when it was closed down. But now Mike had an item from that store. I'm a skeptic, so I never believed in any of the stuff anyway, but I had an eerie feeling about this sphere. "You bought an old bowling ball from a pawn shop?" Chuck said vindictively. He was never one for trinkets, unless it was left over the next morning from one of his one night stands. "I didn't buy it, and it's not a bowling ball!" Mike snapped. "The week Mr. Howard was closing up shop, I went down to see if I could find anything cool. I showed up one afternoon and He told me he had found something that would surely peek my interest. He took me to the back room and showed me this." "This is my prized possession" He told me. "I want you to keep it safe while I'm gone" "Gone? When will you be coming back?" "Depends on how you use that item." He smirked. "It's a very special item, it's enchantment has special connections to it's creator. Legends say it's creator's spirit dwells inside of it, but I'm not entirely sure." "Needless to say, I instantly took it! With a story like that it has to be very important." Mike exclaimed. I wasn't thrilled with Mike's little tale. It creeped the hell out of me. Mr. Howard always had crazy stories about his items, but this one was different. As Mike was recounting the transfer, my whole body chilled. It was that weird chill the one you get when you feel like you're being watched. I knew I wasn't the only one feeling it either. While Mike was telling his tale, I shared glances with Chuck and Tom, they had the same expression I did. They felt it too. We all knew something was awry. "You actually believed his crazy story?" Tom asked. "Yes! Why would he make something like that up?!" Mike rebutted. "To sell you a dusty old ball taking up space in his backroom." Chuck muttered. I think this was the only time I whole-heartedly agreed with Chuck. It was a shocking idea. Even still, I felt that their may have been a slight inkling of truth to Phillips' story. "Oh whatever, you guys are just skeptics." Mike brushed. "I'll just set it here in the middle of the table for our centerpiece." As Mike sat the sphere down and removed the cloth covering it to reveal an incredibly smooth crystal ball. It was almost transparent, you could nearly see all of the living room reflected on its shimmering surface. We all started at it intently, it was mesmerizing. "Alright guys, let's get started! I'm really excited for this campaign." Mike said.

#fireofeye

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brightly-painted-canvas · 8 years ago

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Francesco Gabbani - Italia 21 (translation and explanation)

So, this song was deleted from YT last week and I was very upset, since it’s one of those older songs from Francesco that made me instantly like him. I knew that it needed both a translation and a ‘paraphrase’ (like you would with a Latin version in high school LOL) to fully understand it and that took me SO LONG. It was very hard and I believe it’s still not complete yet: there’s something I still don’t get. But! The most is done and I hope you’ll like it!

This is “Italia 21″ (Italy 21).

I’m not sure if this song was already traslated, I’m just gonna post my version :D I’m not a professional translator so there might be some mistakes. I just hope to convey the message of the song to non-Italian speakers.

Uno. Pane e vino certo non ci manca Due. Neanche il sole in quest’Italia santa Tre. Una penisola col tacco a spillo Quattro. Tutti parlano, ci manca solamente il grillo One. We surely don’t lack bread and wine Two. Nor we lack the sun, in this holy Italy Three. A peninsula wearing an high heel Four. Everybody talks, last thing we need is the cricket

Notes:

- Bread, wine and sun are what Italy is known for in the entire world. So it’s religion, that’s why the ‘holy’ adjective. - Italy is said to be shaped like a boot. We also call the southern regions in Apulia “tacco” (heel). I believe the “high heel” reference is related to fashion, another thing we are known for worldwide. - We have a common saying: “Il paese è piccolo, la gente mormora” (it’s a small town, people talk) which means that basically in small communities everyone knows everything and always voices their opinions. Italy is pretty much like a big “small town” and everyone always likes to talk. We’re very good at talking and having all kind of opinions. - The “grillo” (cricket) reference is what made me instantly fall in love with this song right during the first listening. It’s pure genius. It has a double meaning: the first is related to the Jiminy Cricket (or Talking Cricket), a character from famous Italian author Carlo Collodi’s book “Pinocchio”. It basically says that since everybody likes to talk already, we really don’t need to hear from the Talking Cricket, known for being Pinocchio’s conscience and dispenser of good advices, but never listened to. The second reference I believe it’s about Beppe Grillo, infamous ex-comedian and now leader of political movement “Movimento Cinque Stelle” (the links lead to Wikipedia, if you’re curious about them). The most interesting thing is noticing how Francesco made a subtle criticism of this (known for being loud and obnoxious) politician by using a word play and a very ironic and cultured reference.

Cinque. San Gennaro, grazie che ci Sei! Sette. Senza di te che numeri giocherei? Otto. La nazione piscia controvento Nove. Ma noi siamo tutti fieri del Risorgimento Five. St. Januarius, thanks for exSIXting! Seven. Without you, which numbers would I bet? Eight. The nation pisses upwind Nine. But we are all proud of our Risorgimento Notes:

- St. Januarius is a very important saint in the Italian culture, especially in the Neapolitan area. The “number betting” thing is related to another popular tradition (mainly in Naples, I believe) consisting in praying the Saint to suggestions about which numbers to play at the Lottery. - Number six of this list is the “sei” at the end of the first line. Once again a word play: the word “six” is written and pronounced exactly like the second person singular of the “be” (essere) verb. - Another saying: “Chi piscia controvento si bagna i pantaloni” (who pisses upwind wets his own pants), which means “never take challenges too big for you”. Related to Italy I believe it may mean that we consider our nation much bigger and more influential than how it actually is and we take challenges way bigger than our real potential. Why is that? - Because we are conditioned by our long, rich history and heroical past. One example above all might have been Ancient Rome or the Reinaissance period, but Francesco wisely chose the Risorgimento: when Italy was reunited under the same flag and monarchy after a series of wars, battles and campaigns against foreign occupation. Why is that? Maybe once again to be very ironical about Italians being actually proud of being united in one country, since there are still a lot of differences and fights between North and South.

Dieci. Chi svolta il mese con il contagocce Undici. A chi la polpa e a chi le bucce Dodici. Per fortuna arriva il 1° maggio Tredici. Abbiamo tante, tante fave ma non c’è il formaggio

Ten. Those who turn the month in dribs and drabs Eleven. Some get the pulp and some the peels Twelve. Luckily, the 1st of May always arrives Thirteen. We’ve got lots and lots of beans but we haven’t got the cheese

Notes:

- “Svoltare il mese con il contagocce” (turning the month with the tear dropper) and “a chi la polpa e a chi le bucce” are there to express how the economy has a lot of flaws in Italy, especially in the relation between riches (who has got the “pulp”, the money and wellness) and poors (the ones having difficulties gaining enough to live by, month after month). - The 1st of May is International Work Day and it’s an holiday. It’s also sometimes used as a “middle point” during the working year. - Fave e pecorino (broad beans and sheep cheese) is a typical dish of Central Italy and Rome in particular. It’s a 1st of May tradition to eat them together, especially because since it’s an holiday and it’s Spring, people used to go have trips and pic-nics in the countryside, where they bought beans and cheese directly from the farmers. Francesco is using the dish as another way of saying we’ve got the side dish (vegetable or beans), the theories and good words, but we haven’t got the main course (the cheese), what matters.

Quattordici. C’è chi magna e non fa una piega Quindici. Ma alla fine cosa ce ne frega? Sedici. Tutti fermi, inizia la partita Diciassette porta sfiga. Il corno in terra, cazzo! E’ già finita

Fourteen. There’s who eats and doesn’t bat an eye Fifteen. But in the end who cares? Sixteen. Everyone stay still, the game is on Seventeen brings bad luck. The lucky horn on the floor, fuck! It’s already over

Notes:

- I am having some difficulties pin-pointing where the first sentence is from. It looks like another saying (”magna” is generally the dialect version of “mangia” and it’s mostly associated with Roman dialect) but I’ve never heard anything similar (it might be because I am from Northern Italy, tho). Anyway “non fare una piega” litterally translates to “don’t make a wrinkle” and it’s used both to say that something makes complete sense or that someone has absolute no reaction to something. So basically who eats (presumably those rich people from the previous verse?) doesn’t care about anything/anyone else and/or no one questions it. - “Cosa ce ne frega” is, imho, the best way to describe the Italian attitude toward problems. It basically means “what do WE care?” with a very personal connotation. How do you solve unsolvable (or very hard) problems? Whatever, who cares anyway... not our business. - Italians love football and that’s common knowledge. To quote Winston Churchill: “Italians lose wars as if they were football matches, and football matches as if they were wars.” So true, Winston. - We are also very supertitious. The cornetto is one of the many objects believed to be lucky charms. I have no idea why you have to put it on the ground, tho? (Neapolitans, explain please!). The number 17 is also believed to be very unlucky (that’s why you need a corno to nullify its powers. But while you complete the rituals, you get distracted and the match ends!)

Diciotto. Viva l’Italia col microfono in mano Diciannove. Canto anch’io che sono un italiano Venti. Un bel bicchiere di rosso e due pennette Ventuno. Due cazzeggi all’osteria e un Tressette (Osteria numero sette! *paraponzi ponzi pò* Il salame piace a fette dammela a me, biondina dammela a me, biondà!)

Eighteen. Long live Italy with a microphone in the hand Nineteen. I sing I’m an Italian as well Twenty. One fine glass of red (wine) and some penne Twentyone. Some messing around at the pub and a round of Tressette (Pub number seven! *paraponzi ponzi pò* Salami is good cut in slices give it to me, pretty blonde girl give it to me, blondie!)

Notes:

- Pretty sure the “Italia con il microfono in mano” is a reference to Sanremo, the most famous singing competition in Italy. It may also mean in general everything that has to do with Italian music, tho. Something along the line of “long live Italian music!”, even though his relationship with the industry at the time wasn’t the best and he had struggles surfacing as an artist. Would he ever imagine, at the time, that he would win Sanremo two years in a row? Bless you, Francesco. - A quote from the famous “L’italiano” song by Toto Cutugno. Just like “Italia 21″ that song too was an attempt to describe Italy and the Italians from within. Another fun fact: Toto is the last Italian singer who won the Eurovision Song Contest. Is this a lot of foreshadowing or not? (Maybe too much!) - A glass of wine and pasta. What’s better? Here’s a quick and easy prescription to happiness, by every Italian ever. - “Cazzeggio” is litterally “a thing done with one’s dick” and means messing around, having fun with friends by basically doing nothing. Tressette is a popular card game in Italy. - What follows is something we call stornello, a type of folk song which basically has a standard melody and ever changing lyrics. They are usually very funny, irreverent and sexual. “La canzone delle osterie” is famous everywhere and Francesco used it to end the song in the most carefree way. - He rhymed “sette” with “fette” but I really don’t know how to explain if “salami is good cut in slices” is a sexual reference. Salami can definitely be associated with something sexual (c’mon...) but I have no clue about the rest. I’m an innocent soul XD - “Give it to me” is DEFINITELY sexual. Especially referred to a pretty blonde girl XD That too is usually part of the standard stornello lyrics ;)

Wow, this took SO LONG. I hope it helped understand this song in depth, even though something is still obscure even to me, after translating and spending a lot of time looking things up on the internet. Have fun find other interpretations, maybe? ;)

#translation #lyrics explanation #francesco gabbani #italia 21

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